Chapter 11 #2
I give myself a hundred points for neither shitting myself nor screaming. As it is, I let out a squeak of alarm that Sigurd and Marin kindly ignore.
“Grandson,” the voice says. “Draw closer. I have not seen you in an age.”
“I’ve been busy, Grandmother,” Marin says and moves towards a shadow in the corner of the room.
“On the land, I suppose,” the voice replies. “Take care, or you’ll forget how to manifest your tail and be stuck with two of their spindly little legs. Your fascination with humans appals your father.” There’s a raspy chuckle. “And I say to that, ‘Long may you continue, child.’”
“Grandmother,” Marin chides, smiling. “Don’t be naughty.”
He’s scolding one of the most terrifying mythical monsters to exist. I keep that observation to myself.
“Your father is a lackwit and your mother a fool, but I suppose that’s family. Well, bring the little human closer.”
It’s rather emasculating to keep being called little human, but that’s another observation I keep to myself.
I edge nearer, my eyes straining in the gloomy light. The shadow moves, and I smell salt and the copper tang of blood. “Closer,” the voice says. It’s raspy, like she’s a long-time smoker.
I can tell how tense Sigurd is without looking at him, but I gather my courage and keep walking.
She chuckles. “Good boy. This one is brave, Sigurd.”
Sigurd clears his throat. “Yes, ma’am. He is indeed that.”
I stop, and the shadow moves again, twirling in the air, and the water eddies and swirls around me. There’s an intense chill, and when the water steadies, I see an old lady sitting in an armchair by a huge window that looks down on a coral bed.
I rub my eyes, but when I open them, she’s still there—a petite lady whose face is a mass of wrinkles. Her eyes are the brightest green I have ever seen—almost neon bright in the shadowy room.
“You don’t have a tail.”
I look around for whoever has been rude to the Kraken and then blanch when I realise it was me.
“Cary,” Sigurd says.
But the old lady breaks into a loud cackle of laughter.
“Humans are so interesting,” she says when she recovers.
“One never really knows what is going to come out of their tiny mouths.” She looks at me, her eyes twinkling, and I relax a little.
At this moment in time, she isn’t planning to harm me.
I know it with a deep certainty, and I see Sigurd’s tense body relax, too.
“I have no tail because I am not a ridiculous Mer,” she continues.
“Must you say such things?” Marin sighs.
She waves a careless hand. On her ring finger is a ring with a pearl as big as my thumb. “It is true. I have never met a vainer and more posturing race. Why your mother cast in her lot with them I will never know.”
“I thought she was Mer,” I say. “She had a tail.”
“Ah, the Mer can take both forms, but my daughter is rare in that she can do it at will, regardless of the environment she is in.” She rolls her eyes. “Wasted on that popinjay of a husband. Why, the octopus lord wanted her for himself, and she spurned him.”
“Can I say I am thankful that she did?” Marin says.
She gives another raucous cackle. “But think of all those tentacles. Why I once read a story where—"
Marin clears his throat, and she subsides, but her eyes twinkle. Then she sobers. “Well, dragon, you find yourself in another awkward situation.”
“It isn’t the first time, ma’am. I doubt it will be the last,” Sigurd says wryly.
She shakes her head. “Even as a young fledgling, you were always nosier than any other.” I can’t help but laugh, and she smiles at me. “Mayhap one day I will tell you tales of your dragon.”
“I would like that,” I say honestly.
“Then it shall be so.” She clicks her fingers. “But now we have a problem. Arista is jockeying for position and using her daughter’s absence to prove her power.”
“Will you let her do that?” Marin asks.
She considers the question for a few seconds and then shakes her head. “I have no love for my daughter’s husband or the human race, but the dragon has done me many favours over the years, and I like his little human. I have a mind to help.”
“Thank you,” Sigurd breathes.
“Yes, thank you so much,” I echo.
“Some humans have such pretty manners.” She looks at Sigurd. “I know your mind, dragon, and I would urge caution. Free will is a charming prospect, but years of loneliness and cold decline are less so. Think carefully.”
What is she on about? I look at Sigurd, but his face is blank, his eyes glowing golden in the dim room.
“I thank you for your advice, ma’am,” he says steadily.
She pouts. “Which I suppose you will disregard. You might be a dragon, but sometimes you are very much a man. Go your own way, then, and damn the consequences.” He bows, and she waves her hand at him. “You may use the glass, Sigurd.”
He blinks. “Ma’am, you do me great honour.”
“Away with you, charmer. Marin will help you while I talk to your human.”
His eyes flicker, but he doesn’t reply.
I watch as she reaches into a drawer of a table. She removes a huge box made of coral the colour of a pink morning sky in winter. It glows cold and bright in the room. She waves a hand. “Cover your eyes for a moment, human.”
I obey and hear rustling. When she says, “Open them now,” I blink and stare at the sight in front of me.
On the table is a huge piece of pink glass.
It glows, and even as I watch, milky shadows form within it, twirling slowly and almost hypnotically.
I hear a low rustling, as if a thousand voices have started to whisper together.
“Look then, Sigurd,” she commands. “But remember the rule and do not look too long. The past is best viewed in short bursts. Anything more and you will be captured.”
I look anxiously at Sigurd, but he seems as relaxed as ever and bows. “Thank you, ma’am.”
She gets up from her chair. “Come, Cary. You shall walk with me while these two look for answers.”
Sigurd smiles at me reassuringly. “I will be just here.”
I nod and fall in at her side as we pace along the room. At first sight it seemed small, but as we walk, the shadows lift, and I can see that there’s no end to it.
“Did you think the glass was pretty?” she asks, sliding her arm through mine. Her head comes to my shoulder, and her hand is warm.
“Pretty?” I consider the question. “I would say beautiful.” Then I think of that low rustling sound that had accompanied its appearance. “But in the way of a shark.”
She nods. “You are a wise one, Cary, and you will need to be so. Keep your own counsel with other magical creatures and trust Sigurd. He is a rare one. Kind and loyal as a dog but with a dragon’s heart that’s all-encompassing and endless.”
I hesitate. “I’m only here for another day,” I whisper, the thought sending a shudder of despair running through me.
She directs a sparkling glance at me. “Are you? How very strange.”
Silence falls for a few beats. “Why strange?”
“Do you know what that glass is?” she says, evading my question very neatly. It’s a gift that most magical creatures seem to possess, and I shoot her a wry glance that makes her chuckle.
“I don’t.”
“Well, it is the last remnant of my crystal ball.”
“But the shard was huge.”
“As was the crystal ball. It was smashed many ages ago by a jealous lover. He flung the pieces into the sea. I managed to keep that one shard, but a billion others drifted far on the tide. Now they wash up on shores in this world and others. You humans call it sea glass, but if someone who possesses magic picks a piece up, they will hear the sea and even see me if I so wish. The biggest shard remains with me, and that is what Sigurd and my grandson consult because it can see into both the past and the future.”
“What happened to your lover?”
Something moves across her face, and she gives a cold smile. Her teeth are white and very sharp. “I ate him,” she says matter-of-factly.
I gulp. “Well, that will do to resolve a bad breakup. Lovely,” I say valiantly, and she chuckles. “Aren’t you worried to have your last piece of glass in someone else’s hand?” I say curiously.
She chuckles. “Nay. For I already possess the glass’s ability.” She looks at me, and I’m caught by her eyes. The green glows and shifts, shadows dancing across the orbs, and again I hear that rustling whisper. “I can see the past, the present, and the future for all creatures if I so desire.”
“I’m not sure I’d want that ability.”
She considers me with those eerie eyes and then blinks.
The glow disappears, and she’s just an old lady again.
“It has not always been a blessing, but I learnt to manage the gift through blood and toil. In the past, I was driven mad by it.” She winks at me.
“A few enterprising Greek scribes got some pennies for their stories during that time.”
“The Kraken?” I breathe.
She smiles. “So am I known by the myths.”
“In the films, you’re always big and scaly,” I whisper.
She laughs loudly. I see Sigurd and Marin look up with consternation on their faces, but she waves them away.
“I did see that film. The Clash of the Titans. What ridiculousness. What use would I have had for a foolish virgin?” She scoffs. “And one who thought entirely too much of herself. She never met a mirror that she didn’t want to gaze into. Although the young actor was a tasty morsel.”
“Absolutely,” I say fervently. “I’ve seen it twenty times, and it wasn’t for the plot.”
She chuckles. “I like you, Cary. You are afraid and yet fearless at the same time.”
“Is that possible?”
“In you, yes. It’s a valuable talent to possess in your future life.
Fear exists to warn us to be cautious. But dauntlessness is a far rarer gift, and it allows you to forge ahead.
” We still haven’t reached the end of the room, but she pivots and leads me back to the others.
I realise with a shock how far away they are now, their figures barely visible.
“Well, I have kept you in a fit state, Cary. Mayhap the dragon will owe me a favour after all.” She chuckles. “Ah, but what is a fit state? The dragon is always too quick to trust. Will you be a fit state for my dinner table, perhaps?”
I draw in a breath. For an instant, something wild flickers in her eyes. Something inhuman and cold. Then she blinks, and she’s just an old lady again. She gestures at my jumper. “May I?”
May she what?
I nod regardless, and she places her hand above my chest. Almost instantly, I feel the chain around my neck warm and move, and then the pendant rises out of the neck of my jumper towards her. She touches it lightly, and for a brief second, it glows a bright jade green.
“Beautiful,” she says approvingly. “One of Agnes’s best hagstones.”
“You know her?”
She nods. “Of course. She and her sisters are regular visitors. I permit them to gather ingredients for their spells.”
“You and not the king?”
She winks at me. “I think we all know Llys’s posturing is empty. I allow him his delusions, but occasionally he must be made aware of his limitations. Your fame has spread far and wide.”
“I’m not famous at all.”
“Do you know why Agnes gave you this?”
“As protection?”
She nods. “From me.”
“She won’t get into trouble for that, will she?” I ask anxiously.
She studies me for a long few seconds. “Nay. For she meant well. She didn’t know that her stones had no power over me.
She did it because you were kind to her.
You saw below her appearance and offered her good advice.
It is not wise to judge a creature by its size or appearance.
Neither denotes ferocity. And make no mistake, human child.
I may be old and small, but I am also empty, and the rage that sometimes fills me is as big as worlds.
But you are still not scared of me, are you? ”
I tip my head, considering her. “I’m very wary, but I think you are still kind.”
She stares at me for a few moments and then sets the hagstone back beneath my jumper, patting my chest as she does it. “Mayhap that is where your strength lies, Cary—in clearsighted advice that is not cowed by fear or prejudice. Remember my words.”
I nod. I might remember them, but whether they’ll ever make any sense to me is another matter.
Her eyes twinkle as if sensing my thoughts, and then she turns to Sigurd and Marin as they come towards us. “Any luck, dragon?”
Sigurd bows. “No, ma’am. The glass was not in the mood to play today. It fell silent after you left.” He gives me a glance that’s intense enough to know he’s assessing whether I’m okay. I offer him a smile, and he relaxes.
The old woman watches us. “Affection and love are a rare power in this world. They can enable the owner to accomplish great feats. But love that strong requires feeding and care. Always take care.”
We stay silent, and then her grandson bows. “We must go, Grandmother. Thank you for seeing my guests.”
“It was an honour, as always,” Sigurd says. He holds out his hand to me.
She stops me as I go to walk to him. “Seek the stone men, Cary,” she says.
“They will tell you the next step on which you should place your feet.” She pats my arm.
“But have a care. Man thinks that building his stone palaces and houses offers him protection from the sea, but stone is still nothing but sand, and to sand it returns, and the whole world of man shall be claimed by the sea again. Watch where you put your feet and take heed of your dragon.”
There’s a long silence, and then Marin says indignantly, “Well, if you knew that, why on earth didn’t you just tell us?”
“And where is the fun in that?” she says, laughing. “Besides, I wanted to get to know the human, and I have found him to be both kind and steady with a clear eye. He is a rare one, Sigurd.”
When I look over, Sigurd is watching me steadily. His eyes glow gold. “I know that full well, ma’am.”
She pats my arm. “I think I will see you again, but remember, Cary—if you find a piece of sea glass, you can always talk to me.”
“Can I?” I say, startled. “Don’t you have to be magic to do that?”
She considers me, her eyes glowing faintly. “Mayhap you already are that.”