Chapter 7 #2
My boot came down on smooth, solid rock and the sliver of light in my eyes darkened.
I opened my eyes. A familiar scene lay before me.
We were standing in the vestibule of Caer Sidi, a stone corridor hung with grim tapestries.
In front of us was a wide arched door that looked east, out over the shimmering sea and beyond to Britain.
I glanced back and saw, ten paces away, a second door leading to the grassy slopes of the island.
“Are we—?” Belis spoke from beside me. “Are we there? Can I open my eyes?”
“Yes,” I said. “We’re here.”
I watched as she slowly opened her eyes and looked around, her pupils widening as they adjusted to the dim light.
“This is Caer Sidi?”
“The gate to Annwn. No mortal has ever seen this place with their living eyes.”
Belis shivered and I realised I was still holding her hand. I let it go and bent to tighten my bootlaces. Belis was still staring around at the walls, running her fingers over the smooth, glassy blocks of stone, marbled with thin veins of white quartz.
“Come on,” I said, getting back to my feet. “That was the hard part. Let’s go and see if we can track down Arawn.”
Belis hesitated, drawing her hand back from the walls.
“Are there any rules I should know? Could I get stuck here?”
“What, like not eating or drinking? This isn’t a place of trickery, it’s a land of rest. Arawn isn’t interested in trapping anyone here.
Don’t expect to see anyone you know. Those living this close to Caer Sidi are the oldest of the dead, the newer arrivals head further out. Stay by my side where possible.”
My words seemed sparse, too little to guide Belis through the endless land of the dead, but she nodded and we began to walk down the corridor into the afterworld.
The light from the twin doors to the living world faded fast and soon we were walking in near total darkness.
I thought about how long it had taken me to come this way in the past. Of course I had run everywhere so my sense of distance was a little skewed.
I could hear Belis’s breathing next to me, shallow and a little uneven.
“Are you all right?” I asked. “I don’t think it is too much further from here.”
“I don’t mind,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady. “I find that I am not afraid with you.”
The darkness began to lift as the floor below us angled downwards, lightening by degrees until we were no longer standing on castle floors but on a wide balcony at the top of a winding staircase that looked out over the land of Annwn. Belis gasped and stopped walking.
Above us the sky was periwinkle-blue, studded with pale clouds.
The land around us was a rolling series of meadows, half farmed and budding with golden wheat, half left fallow to produce a miasma of wildflowers.
Clusters of woodland broke up the quilt of fields, orchards of apple and pear trees, vineyards groaning with clusters of grapes.
The laughter of streams bubbled up to us from where they moated green hills and irrigated the land like silver arteries.
I turned back to see the towers of fine grey stone behind us, pale granite glittering in the sunshine.
“Well, this is it.” I looked over towards Belis and was shocked to see tears welling in her eyes.
“This is Annwn?” Her voice trembled. “It’s so beautiful.”
“It goes on for thousands of miles,” I said. “You could walk until your feet wore down to the bones and you’d never reach the end. Even I have not seen much of this place.”
Belis rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffed the air. She turned slowly on the spot, still staring up at the sky.
“It’s nearly dusk but the sun seems to be rising.”
“The sun rises in the west here and sets in the east. Their day is our night.” I paused to give her a few moments to breathe it all in. “Come, we must find the lord of these lands.”
We began down the steps and walked out into the countryside. It had been half a century since I had visited Annwn and it remained as lovely as I had remembered.
I found Arawn exactly where I had expected to, in a field of bronze wheat a few miles’ walk from Caer Sidi.
The ruler of the afterworld was stripped to the waist, sweat shining on the long muscles of his tanned arms as he bent to parcel and scythe the crop, twisting it into bundles and tossing them back on the ground.
Around him other men and women laboured, some in fine purplish tweeds, others in drab linens or animal skins.
“Hail, Arawn, Lord of Annwn,” I called out as we approached. He turned and peered at me, shading his eyes with one hand from the early-morning sun.
“Mallt? Mallt, is that you?” His face split into an enormous grin and to my surprise I saw an expression of relief pass over his features. “The fates are kind to send you to me now, Mallt. We have been waiting for you.”
He broke off and squinted at me. “You look different, Sister of the Night. Is it truly you?”
“In the flesh, which is a surprise to me, too.” I balled my fist over my heart and bowed to him.
Belis copied me, looking around nervously at the harvesters.
Arawn shoved the handle of his sickle into his belt then strode over to us. To my irritation I found that, where once we had been the same height, he now towered over me. “Blood of my ancestors, Mallt, have you shrunk?”
I glowered at him. “It’s this human form I’m stuck in, it’s terribly inconvenient.”
“Human? It can’t be.”
He looked at me again, crouching a little so that his eyes met mine.
They were a liquid gold, no whites nor pupils.
I flinched a little under his gaze. He grabbed my hand, raised it to his mouth and bit down hard.
I yelped and tried to drag it back. Belis hurried forward but he had already released me.
I inspected the injured finger – a shallow cut on the tip. I looked back up to Arawn.
“Your blood proves the truth of your words. There is no taste of magic in you, no scent of the ages.” He stepped closer. “Tell me what happened.”
I scowled, unhappy with how strange and unfriendly he was being. Belis pushed her way between us and to my surprise I felt a little better. She was not quite the same height as the Lord of the Dead, but it was comforting to have her there.
“It is my fault,” she said, meeting Arawn’s eyes. “My mistake. We are here to ask you to help rectify it.”
Arawn stared at her then threw his head back and laughed. Birds were startled from the trees at the sound and a murmur rippled through the dead. He was almost gasping for breath by the time he regained control of himself but there was no mirth in his face.
“You have come to ask me for help, Mallt Y Nos? After years and years of praying and hoping for you to come, you arrive powerless and mortal. Truly you are the Nightshade, for you have brought darkness to this land.’
I recoiled, gripping Belis’s arm and pulling her back. Arawn covered his mouth and cast a quick look at the dead.
“We cannot talk here. Come.” Arawn beckoned us over to the edge of the field where a huge barrel had been filled with water.
A set of wooden cups floated on the surface and the king dipped one into the water and handed it to me.
I dropped my pack and took it gladly. The water was cold enough to sting my teeth.
He gave a second to Belis who was still looking at him as though he might attack again.
“Apologies, my lady,” Arawn said to her, “you have not caught me at my best. I am usually more composed. I don’t believe Mallt has introduced us. A living mortal?”
“This is Beliscena, Princess of the Iceni,” I said. “She’s the reason I’m in this mess.”
“I am Arawn. Welcome to Annwn.”
“Thank you,” said Belis, bobbing another bow. Arawn nodded at her then turned back to me.
“So, Mallt, care to explain?”
I described the battlefield, the events in the glade. Belis hovered next to me, casting anxious glances around her. When one of the dead reached into the barrel to help herself to a beaker of water she flinched backwards, staring at the woman.
“She won’t hurt you,” Arawn said, interrupting my story. “Be at peace.”
Belis nodded and smoothed down her skirt nervously.
“As I was saying,” I cleared my throat, “when I appeared and had reached out for the distressed soul, somehow the three of us got tangled up. Belis was healed, but her sister’s soul was tugged loose and my powers were dislodged, leaving me helpless and human.”
“Indeed,” Arawn said, looking from me to Belis. “You must have strong magic indeed to have done such a thing. Powerful yet extremely foolish. If Mallt had not been there you both would have died.”
Belis flinched and dropped her gaze.
“I will never forgive myself for it,” she muttered, still staring at the ground. “I was mad with fear. I wish I could excuse myself by saying I didn’t know what I was doing but I doubt it would have made a difference.”
Arawn raised an eyebrow at me. I sighed.
“Mortals near death do desperate things. And I should not have intervened. I was in rather a rush.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that you have more than your fair share of the blame for this, Mallt. Now for your joint foolishness many will suffer. The souls of the lost will continue to wander the land, in torment and tormenting, and so death will pay for life, pain for indulgence.”
I shuffled my feet, unable to think of a good response to that. Arawn was so often jovial that his seriousness cut deep. He turned his dark eyes back to Belis.
“And that is not the worst of it. There are problems here that you do not understand; that I had hoped…” He paused and shook his head.
“I cannot help you. You would have done better to forget your sister, to carry on with what remained of your life. As for you, Mallt, I have no power to return you to your form, nor can I permit you to leave.”
“What!” I said. “I’d like to see you try to stop us. We’re mortal, not dead. We could just go back through the tower.”