Chapter 13
The festival had sunk into embers by the time we stepped out from the privacy of the willow tree.
Revellers had simply lain down to sleep where they had been dancing, considering the feasting grounds as safe as any other part of Annwn.
A few with the look of soldiers huddled around the main fire, poking at the glowing remnants of the logs while passing around a skin of liquor.
They nodded to us as we passed, pressing hands to chests in a casual salute to Arawn.
He beckoned them over and exchanged a few low words.
In a moment they had scattered across the grounds, wrapping up food and filling waterskins from barrels.
Others dug ropes and knives from packs and handed them over to us.
I gave Belis back her sword, swapping it for a razor-edged bronze blade that seemed to slot into my hand as if it had been made for me.
“Gather as many as you can and set out along the north road,” Arawn said to the leader, a spade-faced woman carrying an axe. “I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can. See if you can pick up a few others from the watchtowers. There’s a big push coming.”
She grunted an assent and began calling orders. Arawn turned back to us.
“Here, take my hands. I can rush us a mile or so from the canyon. Beyond that we’ll have to go on foot. Rhiannon will meet us there.”
Belis and I exchanged looks, then she took his outstretched hand.
I winced pre-emptively at the nausea and cast a final glance around the field.
Nothing appeared to delay the inevitable so I placed my hand in Arawn’s.
The dizziness hit immediately as Arawn pushed us through space, surfacing again with a sickening yank at my insides.
My ears popped and I held on tight until I was sure I could stand on my own.
Arawn had stopped in a shallow depression between two drumlins. The ground was thick with a knee-high grass the colour of dust, covering the hills with an ever-waving blanket of stems.
Belis was already up and scanning the land. Her spear was in her hand now, seeming just an extension of her arm. She scampered up the rise of the hill, pausing on the crest and going down on one knee.
“Over there.” She pointed to the west and called down to us. “Is that it?”
Arawn strode after her, dropping to a crouch. “Yes, that’s the gorge Rhiannon created. It runs for a thousand miles, cleaving the afterworld in two.”
I hurried up the hill and stood behind them.
The drumlin field extended another half a mile or so in front of us before the wavy landscape flattened into a plain.
The lowlands should have gone on for miles but something had shattered them.
A great rift had hewn the lands in two, snaking back and forth like the path of a lightning bolt.
The land beyond the rift was grey, so overcast with clouds and ash that it was difficult to discern either distance or landform in the miasma.
“Get down,” hissed Belis, yanking at my leg. “Don’t stand on the top of a hill, you’re just asking to be targeted.”
“I only followed you,” I said, hurt by her tone.
“We’re below the ridge line, much harder to spot.”
“Peace,” Arawn said, an undercurrent of warning in his tone. “We’re far enough away and no one will be expecting you. Look, you’ll need to reach the eastern rim. I don’t know how long it will take you to find a path to the bottom.”
There was a faint pop from behind us and I turned to see Rhiannon padding up the hill, keeping her body low to the ground. She took a knee beside Arawn and the Lord of the Dead turned to look at her.
“Wait here ’til tomorrow. I’ll attack in the north at dawn, see how much of a commotion I can cause. If you leave when the sun rises the way should be clearing by the time you reach the canyon.”
Rhiannon nodded and held out an arm. Arawn gripped it tight.
“Best of luck, my old friend,” he said, voice rumbling. “I would hate to lose you.”
The witch patted his hand and then beckoned to us, rising and padding down the slope. I nodded to Arawn as I passed him.
“If we survive this, I will be holding you to your promise to release Cati.”
“I keep my word, Nightshade. You keep yours.” He stood and I felt the air ripple around me as he prepared to rush and then was gone.
We spent a miserable day and a restless night in the drumlin field.
Belis and I sparred as she tried to fit a decade’s worth of training into a single day.
Rhiannon sat and watched, weaving the long grass into braids, muttering spells of protection and luck into the bands.
The witch queen insisted we both sleep as much as possible while she kept watch.
It was cold in the hollow and we huddled together for warmth, talking quietly in the night.
When the first light of dawn came we rose and waited for Rhiannon to come down from the drumlin she had been perched on, her face newly striped with her blood.
When she did she handed out charms on leather thongs, explaining one side would feel the pull of Caer Sidi and go warm.
If we got lost we should follow the cold side, heading directly into the heart of the shadow.
We were still technically in Annwn, but it no longer felt like it.
There were no birds overhead, no crickets singing in the undergrowth.
The only sound was the breeze whistling through the grass and the faint thump of our own feet.
We crossed a little stream at the edge of the hills, winding its way towards the canyon.
I stopped to scoop up water for a drink.
“Ugh.” I spat it back out. “It’s bitter, smoky.”
“It’s ashfall in the rivers,” Rhiannon said. “When the wind blows from the west it whips up dust and cinders from the other side, carrying it over the border to pollute our lands. Seeds of the shadow on the wind.”
She waved a hand at the plains in front of us. “All this used to be forest, but the smoke blocked out the sun and the trees withered and died. The only thing that grows here now is this grass. And the thorns, of course, but we come along and burn them out every few months.”
“All along the border?” Belis asked. Rhiannon nodded.
“The north lands are chalk, so they were never used for much other than pasturelands. The winds grow fiercer every year. Even without the shadowbitten raids the corruption would begin to encroach on us.”
I bit my lip, staring at the rift, swirling mists veiling the wastelands on the other side from my sight. I had brought souls to Annwn on the understanding that it was a place of rest and beauty. This was as cruel as the mortal world, without even the promise of an ending.
“We should keep moving,” Belis said, hurrying us onwards.
The grass thinned as we approached the edge of the canyon, growing dryer so that it crunched underfoot. I felt very exposed out on the plain. Rhiannon kept glancing up at the sky and Belis gripped her spear tight as we ran.
We paused about ten yards back from the edge. Cracks were splintering back from the cliffs, suggesting that the slopes weren’t stable.
“Stay here,” Belis said, tilting up her spear.
She extended it ahead of her, probing at the ground, checking each spot before she stepped into it.
I drummed my fingers against the knife Arawn had given me, sure that at any moment the ground would fail.
Belis reached the edge and peered over. I held my breath but nothing flew up from the darkness.
I saw her smother a sneeze and she inched her way back.
“It’s pretty foul down there but I can’t see anything moving,” she said, accepting a swig from Rhiannon’s water bottle. “We should cover our faces, mouths and noses at the very least.”
“What else? Is there a way down?”
Belis shook her head. “It’s almost vertical on this side. Funny thing, but I can see paths on the western cliffs. Something has been coming down regularly but they haven’t managed to climb up here.”
“Should we move on?” I asked. “Find a better place to cross?”
“I think this might be as good as any,” Belis said. “At least here I can see a way out. I don’t want to find a way in but then get stuck at the base. We can rappel down and then walk up the path.”
“What about whatever made those paths?” Rhiannon asked. Belis looked grim, her hand tightening on her spear.
“If it comes to it, I’ll deal with them.”
Rhiannon shrugged and began rummaging in her pack.
I frowned at Belis, remembering the last time we had had to fight, on the beach in Wales.
I wanted her to be more careful of herself than she had been then.
She ripped off a strip from the bottom of her tunic and handed it to me.
I tied it over my nose and mouth. Belis covered her own face, looking over at me.
“We look like bandits,” she said. I patted the rough fabric to check it was tight.
“Better than breathing in that filth.”
Rhiannon was hammering a stake into the ground about five yards back from the rim. She tied one end of the rope to it and gave it an experimental tug.
“Excellent,” she said. “Here.”
I snatched the rope as she went to hand it over to Belis.
“I should go first. I’m lighter, I can test the strength. Besides, if it doesn’t reach the bottom you’ll be able to pull me back up. Rhiannon next, then you can climb down the rope.”
Belis opened her mouth to argue but Rhiannon nodded. “Very well, you can certainly try.”