Chapter 7
The outline of the island appeared on the horizon like the wide back of a whale.
From my position at the helm of the little boat I could see clouds of seabirds rippling above it and then dispersing as they dived into the water.
I turned back to Belis who was taking a breather, leaning forward heavily across the oars.
“Look.” I pointed behind me. “That’s the island of Grassholm. We’re almost there.”
Belis looked up and squinted into the distance. Her face did not adopt the look of stunned awe I had expected from a human seeing Caer Sidi for the first time.
“Are you sure? It doesn’t look like much. I thought you said there was a castle.” I nodded, impatient.
“Completely sure. You can’t see the castle from the sea. Only those who land and know how to look for it can find it.” I grinned. “And there are no living folk who know where to look. Except me. No one knows the way to Annwn until they die.”
Belis shrugged and stretched out her arms then resumed rowing, cutting the oars through the dark water. She had pulled off her cloak and rolled up the sleeves of her tunic and I could see the strong muscles of her forearms flexing and tensing.
“I don’t suppose your wisdom extends to knowing which side of the island we should land on? I’d rather not capsize the boat onto the rocks and have to swim for it. My arms are weak as a babe’s from all this rowing.”
I considered this, though I doubted arms that strong could really be as tired as she said. I had always just run straight across the water and climbed up the cliffs on the east of the island. I wasn’t totally sure what made an area suitable for boats.
“The north,” I said, hazarding a guess but trying to seem sure. “There are some little inlets we should be able to row into.”
Belis grunted. I swivelled on my seat to look out at the island again.
We were close enough now that I could separate the dark mound into parts.
Closest to the water was a thin layer of black rock, stained by seaweed and algae.
Above that layer, the island was split into the grass-covered east and the pale west, completely white from the guano of the thousands of nesting gannets.
Above us the sun emerged from a bank of clouds and lit up the sea so that it glowed an emerald green.
I took a deep whiff of the salt air, remembering my last visit here, when the porpoises had come to the surface to race me and the dogs to the island.
I nearly reached out a hand to stroke Dormath before remembering he wasn’t there.
I watched the gannets lift off from the rocks and throw themselves into the air before slicing, bladelike, into the water.
Each movement was precise, the wide wings drawn back, the long neck stretched out; even the resultant splash seemed contrived to set off the elegance of the dive.
Moments later the birds would break the surface again, swallowing down fish and leaping back into the sky.
I had always loved to watch the gannets, loved the rare journeys to Caer Sidi, if not the destination. Now I felt awkward and lumpen, unable to run and leap alongside the birds and wild creatures of the sea. I turned away and stared at the water swilling in the bottom of the boat.
It took less time than I had feared for Belis to make landfall on the island.
She was surprisingly skilled at manoeuvring the little boat through the craggy rocks until it was close enough for her to reach out and grab an outcrop with one hand so that I could clamber onto the island.
When she was sure I was not going to fall into the water, Belis tossed me a coil of rope we had found in the boat and then followed me onto the rocks.
She retrieved the rope and tied the boat off with practised ease.
“With a bit of luck that should last for a few days if the weather keeps. If we’re much longer than that I doubt I’ll have the strength to row us back anyway with no food and no fresh water.”
“Once I regain my power I can carry you back across the water,” I said, bouncing back and forth on my toes.
“Really?” asked Belis. I nodded, beginning to twitch with nervous excitement at being so close to our destination.
She straightened up, silhouetting herself against the afternoon sun. I raised a hand to shade my eyes and looked at her, hair wild and curly from the salt spray and the wind.
“Can you find this castle before nightfall? I don’t particularly want to spend another night without shelter, especially out here in the open.”
I nodded and stood up.
“Caer Sidi, the entrance to Annwn, is on the eastern side of the island. It shouldn’t take us too long to reach. Be careful where you step, the rocks will be slippery with gull shit.”
Belis wrinkled her nose but followed me as I began to climb up the slope.
It was steep and uneven and I had to use my hands, jamming my fingers into cracks in the rocks to haul myself up.
I paused for breath several times, conscious that Belis would be impatient to carry on.
She said nothing, though, stopping whenever I did but always quick to move when I had caught my breath.
As we reached the crest of the island the winds picked up, hurrying the gannets home. They ignored us but the clattering howls they gave as they returned to their roosts filled the air.
Finally I paused about halfway along the eastern cliffs. The rock outcrop formed a rough circle, the grey stone jutting from the thin grass. From where I stood I could see straight across it, the blue-green sea and beyond, on the far horizon, the rise of the mainland. Belis came up beside me.
“This is it?” She didn’t sound impressed, but I was getting used to that.
“The Western Isle, the Castle of the Gate. Here all living things come in their own time,” I said, remembering the old words.
“I still can’t see it.”
I sighed. This woman had no sense of drama.
“Wait just a moment,” I said. “Here, come and stand where I am.”
I moved to the side and Belis obliged, shifting to where I had been. I tugged on her arm and she bent down. I leaned over her shoulder.
“First, close your eyes. Done? Now open them just a little, so that there’s a crescent moon of light at the base of your vision.”
I checked to see that she had followed my instruction then half closed my own eyes. The sound of the waves seemed to increase, the wind whistled louder in my ears. I reached out and placed a hand on Belis’s arm, feeling the heat of her skin under my fingers.
“Now, we will walk forward, step by step. Each time you put your foot down imagine that you are walking on paved stones. Listen for the sound of it, expect it. The wind will fade because you will step inside the castle, so ignore the senses that tell you otherwise. Don’t open your eyes until I say so. ”
Belis opened her eyes and blinked in the light.
“For example, don’t do that.” I sighed. She stared at the cliff, measuring the distance between us and the fall.
“It can’t be more than ten paces across.” She looked back down at me. “How long will it take us to reach the castle?”
I shrugged. “It depends. I usually just walk straight in. The handful of times I’ve had to escort a soul right to the gates we’ve approached from over the water.”
Belis walked around the side of the ring of stone and peered over the edge of the cliffs. I followed her. Below us the furious waves crashed against the rocks, seething with white foam. I felt the undertow of nausea at the height and moved back.
“Straight onto the rocks,” Belis said, her voice wavering. I clapped her back.
“Come on, we’re wasting time. I thought we were in a hurry.”
I pulled her back to the entrance and waited for her to half close her eyes again.
I reached for her arm once more but to my surprise she took my hand, lacing her fingers through my own.
Her grip was firm and strong, her palm larger than mine.
I paused for a moment, unsure if I liked it, then squeezed her hand. She smiled, her eyes still half shut.
I closed my own eyelids, ’til only a splinter of light peeked through.
I imagined the high walls of Caer Sidi, the arching gate before me, the cold stone of the floors.
I took a step forward. The grass muffled the sound of my feet but in my head I could hear the click of boots on stone.
Belis had taken the step as well, keeping pace with me.
I took another step, then another, all the while listening for the echoing sounds of my footsteps, the muted wind howling at the thick walls.
The only sense I allowed myself to notice was the gap of light sliding under my lashes.
I moved forward again, five more paces, each step noticeably landing on the grassy cliffs.
Belis stopped beside me again. I could feel a slight tremor in her hand.
I wanted to look, to check if she had kept her eyes shut, but I knew I couldn’t.
As soon as I opened my eyes we’d have to go back and start again, and once I lost confidence in her, I’d want to keep checking.
I took the ninth step, concentrating hard on the castle.
I wished I had gone barefoot. I had never done this wearing boots before.
It was harder to imagine the flagstones beneath my feet.
One more step and we were at the edge of the cliff.
My hand was slick with sweat, and I couldn’t tell if it was Belis’s or mine.
For the first time I felt worried that with the next step we would simply topple over and onto the rocks below.
I would never return to my old self, never see the dogs again.
The souls of the restless dead would linger in the mortal world. I would have let Belis down.
I couldn’t wait here much longer. Belis could count ten paces just as well as me. If I hesitated, she would lose faith. If she lost faith, then we would fall. I had to make a decision.
I squeezed her hand and we stepped forward together.