Sixty-One Nails cotf-1

by Mike Shevdon

  "How did you do that?" I indicated the barriers where the attendant watched people passing through but had completely failed to notice Blackbird walking through without a ticket.

  "Do what?"

  "You just walked through the barriers without paying."

  "The barriers aren't meant for me," she explained as the lift door opened. Thankfully at that time of day most of the people were coming up in the lift, not going down and we had the lift car to ourselves.

  "So you just walked through the barriers because you thought you could? Everyone else has to pay."

  "I don't, though, do I?" she explained, as if I were a two year-old.

  I found myself trying to argue with the obvious. I had just watched her walk through the barrier, so I knew she could do it. If the reason she could do it was because she thought she could then perhaps that was reason enough. It occurred to me that there was an underlying arrogance to the Feyre. They believed they were privileged and because they believed it, they were. It was an arrogance I was familiar with amongst human beings, especially at senior levels within companies, but it translated to the Feyre well enough.

  The lift reached the bottom and the doors rolled open to the empty corridor. Blackbird exited and I followed her out and towards the platform, except that she swung right after the lifts. I followed her into the passage that joined the platform entry and exit passages. She halted outside a door marked Staff Only – No Entry.

  "Here we are." She tapped on the door and entered.

  "It said Staff Only," I pointed out, in case she hadn't noticed.

  "I know. It's to keep people out."

  "Should we be in here then?"

  "No one comes in here unless they're entitled to, trust me. And if they did, they would regret it." Inside we took the spiral stairs leading down. A little way down, a passage led off to the base of the lift shaft but the steps spiralled on down.

  "Where does this lead to?"

  "I think it used to be a service tunnel, but it's been adapted for other purposes now. Here we are." The stairs ended in one of the circular tunnels that are common on the underground, except that this one looked as if it hadn't been used in years. The floor was smeared with something dark in places. Worryingly it looked organic in origin, as if something had decomposed there and left a stain.

  Blackbird passed me the brown sack with the pigeon sleeping in it and stepped slowly down the corridor away from the spiral stair. I hung back. The hairs on the back of my neck slowly lifted until I could feel them prickling down my neck. Some instinct was telling me it wasn't safe here and that my best course of action would be to flee back up the stairs as fast as I could.

  She paused and cocked her head as if listening for something. The light illuminated only the first fifteen feet, then slowly merged with the darkness beyond, vanishing into featureless grey.

  "Are we going down there?" I spoke softly to her back as the distance slowly increased between us.

  She held up her left hand with one finger raised to indicate that I should be quiet. She paused then stepped forward again into the edge of the darkness. As she did, a huge shaggy figure coalesced out of the grey and reached out for her.

  "Blackbird!" I shouted a warning.

  The long shaggy arms closed around her, sweeping her up. I was torn between trying to rescue her and running back up the stairs. My cowardice shamed me, but the thing was immense. Huge hairy arms grasped Blackbird's slight frame. It had swept her up off the floor as if she were weightless and was crushing her against its chest. What could I do?

  A long low growl came from the tunnel echoing from the walls as Blackbird kicked her legs helplessly, caught in its grasp. Why didn't she zap it or something?

  Torn between staying to watch Blackbird's fate and saving myself from a similar one, I stayed at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the rail ready to run for it when my laggard brain made sense of the low growling emanating from the creature.

  "Bbbbrrrraaaacckkkbiiirrrddd." The sound rolled like a glacier grinding gravel.

  It knew her name?

  I hesitated as I heard another noise. It was muffled, but it came from the figure pressed into the creature's chest.

  Blackbird was laughing.

  FOUR

  The scene transformed as my perceptions shifted.

  The arms became a hug, though on a scale that was hard to believe. Blackbird's thrashing became her return of the enthusiastic greeting she was receiving. The growl was speech, though it was slowed and so low that most of it was wasted on my ears and found rest somewhere low in my gut.

  The creature was still half-concealed in darkness, though it filled most of the tunnel. Grey shaggy hair covered it completely, sweeping down its shoulders and arms and hanging in loose dark curls where Blackbird was pressed against its chest, her arms buried up to her elbows in fur. Its head was wide where creamy tusks emerged from the darkly lined lips. Its eyes were black inside a ring of burnished gold and they were watching me.

  Blackbird's feet descended slowly to the floor, though she clung with her face pressed into the fur for a moment longer before stepping back.

  The creature swept its hand up then extended its palm, turning upwards.

  "My apologies, Gramawl, I am losing my manners in the joy of seeing you again. He is called Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Gramawl." As she said this, she made a complicated gesture, rotating her middle finger downwards and then indicated me and made a little rabbit with her hands. As she was signing, I realised that the last sentence spoken was meant as a cue for me.

  Blackbird stepped aside and I hesitantly stepped forward. I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. I staggered for a moment, unable to make sense of what was happening. I came to myself, clinging to the rail and finding my knees unsteady. Something washed over me, like waves of disorientation.

  "I suppose I should have anticipated that." She turned back to Gramawl who retreated slightly into the dimness. She wobbled her fist and then tapped it sharply against her palm, then made a series of sharp sweeping motions, ushering Gramawl backwards.

  Gramawl made a small circle to indicate us both then added an outstretched hand that tipped from side to side. The sensation dissipated and I found myself able to stand again.

  "Yes, I know what you thought, but even if that were the case, that is a poor welcome, isn't it?" She pressed the knuckles of each hand together for emphasis. There was a reprimand in her voice, mixed with the sort of fondness reserved for a wellintentioned but over-protective uncle.

  The shape retreated further into the dimness.

  "Oh, stop it. Come out and meet Rabbit properly." She was both frustrated and amused.

  Clearly the creature understood her speech as it came forward, this time fully into the light. As it emerged further I became aware that it was hunched over. Shoulders loomed behind the head, sloped down to fit in the tunnel. I thought it would shamble forward, but its step was light, full of grace and poise, like a dancer.

  There was a seismic rumbling, accompanied by a complex bow and ending with an outstretched palm.

  "He apologises for his misunderstanding, Rabbit, and offers you welcome, if you will accept it."

  I gathered my wits.

  "Thank you, Gramawl." I bowed in turn, keeping my eyes on the shaggy form. As he approached I became aware of his scent. I had thought he would smell like a beast, but instead there was the freshness of new-turned earth. I could see, now I was closer, that the shaggy fur was not matted and grey but layered with grey over brown, over black. It had the quality of a finely groomed horse's mane and I wondered who had spent time combing through that mountain of fur.

  "I was about to explain that Rabbit had brought you a gift, Gramawl, but now I'm not sure whether he will want to part with it." She was comfortable speaking and signing at once, though Gramawl appeared to understand our speech well enough. Was there some etiquette to this?

  Gramawl, lifted and then dropped his arms, pantomiming disappointment. At the s
ame time his voice, if you could use that term, dropped in tone until I could only feel it rumbling in my bones. The hackles on my neck rose. I found myself stepping back.

  "Only a little something," she teased, holding out her hand as if swinging a sweet by the wrapper or a tiny mouse by the tail and ignoring the shivering air.

  The great eyes flicked back to me, luminescent in the overhead lights. His flat wet nose wriggled, seeking clues.

  "Of course, that was before you offended my friend."

  "I'm not offended," I interjected, a little too quickly.

  He swept away the air with his hand, rubbed one palm against the other and added an opening and closing gesture.

  Blackbird translated for me. "He says you have accepted his apology and that it was only a misunderstanding and now he would like to know what you've brought."

  Blackbird stepped up to him, smiling, and affectionately stroked his cheek above her head. "I don't know, I bring people to meet you and this is how you welcome them. Why don't you show Gramawl his gift, Rabbit?"

  Taking my cue, I reached into my jacket for the stones, but she shook her head. "Those are for a little later. Put the sack on the floor and leave it, somewhere in the open."

  I stepped forward, still a little hesitant near Gramawl, and placed the sack on the ground and stepped back.

  "You need to open it a little or it's not going to come out," Blackbird added.

  "It'll fly off." I hesitated.

  "That isn't going to be a problem, is it, Gramawl?"

  There was a rhythmic huffing sound and my stomach vibrated to the sound of his amusement.

  I stepped back to the sack and opened the neck, letting it fall open around the bird. It hopped out onto the sack in a flurry, getting its bearings. I stepped back again.

  The bird was initially bemused to find itself underground. It looked about, putting its head on one side and then suddenly focused, darting sideways as it caught sight of the huge figure. It burst into the air in a clatter of wings.

  There was a dull thump, like a pulse in the air. I blinked.

  All was silent again. My brain caught up with my ears and I realised that Gramawl had taken it, mid-flight. I hadn't even seen him move.

  Gramawl let out a low rumbling that might have been a purr if it had been high enough. He pressed his fist to his chest then touched his lips with his forefinger, opening his hand into a fluttering motion.

  "He says it tastes of light and air," Blackbird translated, "and offers his thanks."

  "You're welcome," I offered, still trying to figure out how something so big could move that fast.

  "Delightful as it is to share such things with you, Gramawl, we really came to see your Mistress. Is she at home?"

  He used a two-handed gesture, one hand inside the other, that I couldn't interpret, then placed his palm outwards, rotating it to point at the ground.

  "We'll wait here then, while you check." She turned to me. "He thinks she might be sleeping, so we'll wait a moment."

  He merged back into the dark and vanished, leaving me staring at the empty sack.

  "Do they all eat pigeons?" I asked Blackbird.

  "No, but Gramawl is a creature of open twilight and he's been living down here a long time. Bringing him something from the daylight world above is like offering him a taste of autumn sunshine."

  "Can't he just leave?" I felt some sympathy for him. I had been stuck on the Underground for an hour once and that was long enough.

  "He is tied to his Mistress and she won't leave, so he'll stay with her until she changes her mind."

  "Is he bound to her, then?"

  "In a way, yes."

  "He doesn't need protection, if you ask me."

  "He doesn't do it for protection. He does it because he loves her."

  "Oh." I couldn't think of how to respond to that.

  We stood in the lighted area of the tunnel in silence until my sense of curiosity overcame my unwillingness to break the stillness.

  "Are all the Feyre like that?"

  "No, most are smaller. Gramawl is a sylvan troll, a creature of twilight. His line goes back to the first trolls. The mountain trolls are a little shorter and their coats are grey and white, but you hardly ever see mountain trolls these days."

  "He's very impressive."

  "You may meet others like him. There are a few in and around London, but the majority live out in the forests where they're more comfortable."

  "It must be very hard for him to live so far away from woods and trees."

  "Well, trolls like caves, and this is only a man-made cave when you think about it. But yes. He wouldn't stay if it wasn't for Kareesh."

  "Kareesh is his Mistress?"

  "Yes, and I don't think she has been out of these tunnels in many years."

  "Is that who the stones are for?" I tapped the pocket of my jacket where the stones weighed in the pocket.

  She nodded. "A gift for a gift, Rabbit. She is the one who might be able to show you a way to survive, if she takes a liking to you."

  And if she doesn't? That question led me to other thoughts. "What do they do for food and water down here?"

  "Gramawl goes outside to forage for short periods, but not until full dark."

  "Didn't you say he was a twilight creature?"

  "Yes, but twilight in the forest is easily as dark as full night in the city. I doubt he will have seen the sun for years."

  "Do they, you know, turn to stone? In sunlight, I mean, as in the legends?"

  Blackbird laughed. "No, they don't turn to stone. But, over the years, some may have appeared to vanish leaving only the rocks behind, if they were being pursued."

  "I suppose if you were pursuing something that big and it vanished in plain sight, you might be tempted to believe it had turned into a rock," I suggested.

  "Yes, you might."

  We fell into silence again, me thinking of the vanished pigeon and Blackbird with her own thoughts. I wanted to ask more questions but the sound of our breathing was sufficient disturbance in the silent tiled corridor.

  Gramawl materialised from the darkness without a sound. It wasn't just that he moved quietly; in the silence of the passage you could have heard a feather fall but Gramawl made no sound until he reappeared from the tunnel. Blackbird was unsurprised by this and took in the rapid gestures that accompanied his return.

  "She'll see us now, Rabbit. You are privileged. She must be curious about you."

  "Why would she be curious about me?"

  "Because I brought you to her, I expect."

  Gramawl stepped back into the darkness and Blackbird followed him. I wasn't sure what to expect now that we were going to meet Kareesh. What would a female troll look like? Were they bigger or smaller than the males? Was she likely to decide I was a self-delivering takeaway?

  The darkness eased in behind me and we were climbing slightly. The passage angled left and right and came to a stairway at one side while the passage continued onward into darkness. The metal treads of the steps gleamed dully in the darkness and I noticed a faint glimmer of light coming from above.

  There was some unseen exchange between Gramawl and Blackbird and she took the steps upwards. I followed, nodding a blind acknowledgement to the hulking shape in the dimness, guessing that with his huge gold-rimmed eyes he could probably see me perfectly well.

  The steps doubled back at the first level and climbed up to an area that opened out, whether into another corridor or a room it was hard to tell, for every surface was hanging with rugs and heavy curtains patterned in muted gold and red. In contrast to the space below, the echoes died immediately, leaving a sensation of muffled closeness.

  As we walked forward, we stepped onto rugs with curving geometric patterns that led the eye to wander. Delicate filigree lamps in beaten copper hung from the ceiling, their shape reminding me of Indian or Persian influences. Their light was warm and glowing, and flickered as we passed. A scent of musk rose up around us with an undertone of n
ew-turned earth. It might have been fetid, but it smelled clean, as if it had just rained.

  We approached a corner where there were cushions piled around with hangings draped into folds above and to each side making a nest. In the centre of this nest was a figure. Huge almond-shaped eyes, completely black, watched us approach. Her face was long, her chin pointed and her limbs were thin and spindly. Her alabaster skin was pale and translucent, stretched over her frame and showing her bony joints. Is this what female trolls looked like? I glanced at Blackbird but she was focused on the figure in the cushions.

  "Greetings, Kareesh. You look well." Blackbird's voice sounded muted in this enclosed space.

  "You always had a way with words," said the figure, but she smiled, exposing parallel rows of tiny needle-sharp teeth behind thin lips. "Come and sit with me, and bring your new friend." She patted the cushion beside her. Silver wisps of cobweb hair trailed from her arm, hanging momentarily in the air as she moved.

  We approached slowly, Blackbird hunching down to nestle in beside the smaller figure who sat like a grandma pulling her grandchildren in around her for warmth and comfort. I bobbed down onto my haunches and eased sideways to sit on the edge of the cushions.

  "So what have you been up to all this time? I've missed you, girl." Her voice was sweet but crackly.

  "I'm sorry, Kareesh, I would have come before, but–"

  "Oh, I know. You've a thousand things to do and I don't blame you. It's your time, girl, and you'd best make the most of it." She reached over and patted Blackbird's hand affectionately. Blackbird captured the hand gently and held it for a moment.

  "And you've brought this one to see me, have you?" Kareesh nodded towards me.

  I bowed awkwardly from the seated position. "Greetings, Kareesh,"

  "Nice manners," she remarked in an aside to Blackbird, "but still wet from the birthing pool. Have you started taking in waifs and strays, girl?" I bristled at her implication that I was either of those.