Louisa Shorney

Finishing his tale Tom reaches over and gently strokes Cerri’s hair as she lies peacefully in the sunlight. He leans over her and softly kisses her lips bringing her back into the moment with him. As Cerri’s eyes open he finds himself staring into the black matter of the Dark Void. Pushing him off of her with a force that throws him onto his back she scrabbles away spitting viperously.

‘DON’T TOUCH ME.’

‘What the feck Cerri?’

The veil of the Void lifts from her eyes as a sparkle of light pushes through. Cerri brings her knees up to her chest and hugs them, rocking herself gently, every cell in her body trembling.

‘I’m so sorry Tom! I’m so sorry! I don’t know what that was or where it came from. What in Azrial’s flame is happening to me?’

Tears flood down her face soaking the faded knees of her jeans.

‘I’m sorry Tom. I’m so sorry.’

‘Hey, Sweetheart. I’m used to it I shouldn’t have expected you to be any different. Why would you want a freak like me touching you?’

‘A freak like you? What are you talking about? It’s me being the freak. Honestly Tom I don’t know what that was. So much darkness, pure malevolence gushing from my stomach like bile. It pushed me aside I had no control over it. I don’t know how else to describe it, that’s as close as I have words.’

Feeling Cerri’s distress and less of the wounded puppy, Tom moves towards her to wrap himself around her and rock it all away. As much for his own benefit as hers. But his movement causes her to scramble backwards keeping a distance between them.

‘Please Tom don’t. Don’t come near me, don’t touch me. I can’t… I don’t…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’

‘Have I done something Kitty Cat?’

‘No, no. It’s not you. Well it’s nothing you’ve done anyway. I don’t know what the feck it is Tom but when you try to get close to me that dark bile surges up from my belly. I can keep it down if you keep away, I just need you to leave me a lone for a bit. I’m sorry Tom, it’s not your fault but you can’t help me.’

Cerri can feel Tom’s concern reaching out to her like some candyfloss blanket wanting to wrap itself around her, suffocate her, smother her. Sickly, sweet love that would suck the very being from her soul.

‘This isn’t me! This is not how I think or how I feel. HELP!! What the fuck is happening to me. MAH!! You’re never there when I need you.’

She sobs a silent sob and shakes her arms and legs trying to slosh off the feelings but they won’t budge.

‘Argh! Mother! Tom I’m sorry, I can’t handle this. I need to get a grip of myself and I can’t do that with you around. I’m gunna go for a walk along the stream, see if the water can help me getta hold of meself. I won’t go far, I promise. I just need a bit of time.’

‘Well I’m obviously not helpin’ an’ you’re a big girl now, ye don’t need my permission.’

His blue eyes sparkle a smile at her.

‘But take your roamer with you just incase. Otherwise I’ll be sittin’ here thinkin’ the worst, unable to get hold of ye.’

‘Sure, of course I will Tom. I just need to get my head ‘round meself and find my normal, at least what’s left of it.’

‘It’s alright hun, I’ve never thought I owned ye, yer free to go as ye please. Ye’ll be alright, ye’ll find what ye need. Yer far stronger than ye think y’ar Kitty Cat. G’ wan now, before ye lose the light.’

Cerri smiles at him affectionately she hopes, but such feelings are lost to the Void, for now all she can muster is muscle memory. She unties the laces on her boots slips them off of her feet, along with her socks which she stuffs into each boot, then tying them together she slings them over her head like a scarf. Rolling up her jeans she climbs down the little bank and gingerly steps into the water, recoiling at the temperature a little until her skin accustomises itself. The sensations of the fine grainy grit between her toes and the cool water flowing around and over them have a very calming, soothing effect. She finds herself smiling. Looking up her eyes meet Tom’s, he’s watching her intently, no sign of what he is thinking or feeling disturbs his surface.

‘I’ll be back before it’s dark.’

Tom raises his hand in acknowledgment and lies back, hands behind his head as a pillow, and lets his mind wander away in the afternoon sunshine. Cerri’s attention returns to her feet and the gritty stoniness of the watery bed. Starting to pick her way down stream she lets the water carry each foot as she lifts it, drifting into a dazy calm, all signs of darkness and Void fading away. In fact she is so focused on her feet in the stream that she is oblivious to the screeching chatter of the little jay trying to get her attention. There’s something in the water, capturing her attention, in the back of her mind she can hear the faintest whimper.

‘Can any one hear me?’

She stops for a moment and looks around for any sign of the voice’s body, all other sounds bared entry to her awareness. There is a strange tingling sensation from her wet skin as the voice whispers again.

‘Help me please! Can any one h….’

Cerri drops to her haunches to be closer to the water and slides her arms into the flow. As her skin begins to tingle again the voice returns, much clearer and louder.

‘Someone, please! I’m trapped.’

Allowing her awareness to pass through her skin and into the water Cerri responds.

‘I am someone. I can hear.’

She waits for sometime but her senses are still and her mind is silent. She tries again.

‘My name is Cerri. Cerridwen. Can I help you?’

‘May be you can, may be you can’t. You are human?’

‘I am. And you are?’

‘You know Lamia?’

‘I know ‘of’ her yes. Who does not? But I do not ‘know’ her, nor would I wish to.’

‘Then help you can. I am Morrigan. I am Crow.’

‘Pleased to meet you. Well speak with you at least. How can I help? You are trapped you say?’

‘Yes, but not that. Not time. I fade. Water conduit hard. Tell the Master I am here.’

The Morrigan’s voice is weak and becoming barely audible.

‘Who is the Master and where is here?’

‘Dungeon. Iron bound. The key is Lamia’s….’

Cerri can feel that the connection is broken but she desperately tries to reconnect.

‘Morrigan! Morrigan! Crow speak to me!’

With a rise of anxiety something black coils. Cerri screams with rage at the stream and hammers with her fists into the water. Bredda can feel the dark bile rising inside her drowning out the light, he throws acorns at her trying to gain her attention.

‘Messeer, Messeer! Cerridwen!’

Bredda dive bombs Cerri’s head trying to snap her out of the Void’s black grip.

‘Cerridwen, please? My Messeer, I’m here, I’m here, let me help you.’

Cerri rises slowly from the water, a flash of Dark Void greets Bredda as their eyes meet before she swats him from the air with her hand and malicious bile spits from her mouth.

‘I don’t need your help, Jay!’

*

As the shadows begin to lengthen Broc hears rustling from within the holly blockade. He shakes to bring himself more awake, forgetting that he has a magpie nesting in his ruff. Luckily for Breac he is flung high enough to be able to flap his wings a couple of times, bringing himself to a soft landing on a cushion of violets.

‘Thank you Riviniana.’

‘You are quite welcome Breac.’

Nose snuffling along the ground Broc lumbers past them both towards the wall of holly.

‘Something’s coming!’

Alarmed, Breac prepares to take flight defensively.

‘Fair or foul?’

‘Fox I believe.’

‘Louarn?’

‘What other fox would be fool enough to get caught up in a Flimsy Meddling?’

Breac flaps excitedly up onto Broc’s back and perches on his head ready to greet his friend. The rustling of the holly is getting louder, he creaks and groans as a prickly tunnel starts to form in his dense foliage. The unmistakable perfume of vulpes vulpes wafts through the tunnel.

‘Louarn, brother, you’re safe.’

‘Breac? You found me. Oh Mother it’ll be good to see you brother.’

‘I swear this tunnel was bigger on the way in.’ Louarn mutters and mumbles as he claws himself along the spikey floor. ‘Ouch, ouch! May be it was down hill or something.’

‘Or may be your addled mind didn’t care so much about it’s fur, flesh and bone on the way in, Fool.’

The sound of Broc’s all too familiar voice startles Louarn. With only his head clear of the tunnel he forgets himself and stands up too quickly, impaling himself upon the barbed walls, he lets out a long wailing howl.

‘Nor on the way out it would seem.’

Broc’s contempt smells as heady as his musk but Louarn is more than happy to roll himself in it.

‘I am glad to see you brother, although I’m sure that you would think that strange and I know, I do not deserve to call you brother. But brother you are and brother you have always been. It is I that have not and I expect no forgiveness for that.’

‘It would seem that old Amanita managed to weave a modicum of sense into that brain of yours, Fox.’

‘I have certainly been shown some truths brother and my heart is much aggrieved by what it has seen. I would beg for your mercy brother Broc but I have yet to earn it.’

Broc releases a heavy sigh and with it a pain that has been crippling his chest for too many cycles now.

‘Well it is enough that your heart holds the truth at last. For the moment at least. As you quite correctly pointed out, you have never not been brother to me Louarn.’

‘Well thank the Mother you two are no longer at each other’s throats.’

Breac flies down from his Broc perch and lands on the ground in front of Louarn.

‘It is good to see you Louarn. It would seem that it’s not only some truth that you have gained brother.’

Breac pecks at the ivy leaf wreath. In his shock at seeing Broc, Louarn had all but forgotten his meeting with the Lady Achren and the crown for Cerridwen around his neck.

‘I see that you managed to find Feithleann then Louarn, and much more I can imagine.’

‘Yes indeed Riviniana, but with out your help I would have been lost.’

Louarn bows in gratitude.

‘There is much I would like to share with you friends but now is not the time. The shadows are growing long and I must make haste to the river. Cerridwen needs her crown before the darkness take it’s hold.’

‘What is this brother?’

‘I will explain on the hunt Breac, we must move. Will you travel with us Broc?’

‘I am at your back, now and always, brother.’

‘Riviniana, once again, my thanks. For now farewell, keep warm and sleep deep we will see you in the spring.’

‘Keep safe brothers, may success be yours.’

Both Broc and Louarn sniff the air for traces of the river, turning towards the declining sun they look at each other and nod.

As Louarn settles into a trotting lope to pace with Broc, Breac nestles into his ruff with the woodbine and gort, it is an easy pace to ride.

‘So brother, what’s with this collar? And who is Cerridwen?’

‘Some human, who needs my help Breac. The “collar” is her crown apparently, she needs help with finding some clarity.’

‘Not sure what help you can be with that.’ Broc snortles from behind.

‘That’s what I said, but the Lady insisted.’

‘The Lady Achren entrusted you with this?’

‘Yes Broc! Not every one believes me to be nothing but a fool.’

‘Why is this human important enough for the Lady’s aid brother?’

‘She is the last of Lilith’s line.’

‘I thought that line ended before the Separation.’

‘Not ended, just hidden apparently. Her Dance with the Snake has begun and if she does not successfully alchemise….’

‘Then we are lost before the war begins.’

‘War? What war Breac?’

‘If the Lady has risen and is waking up the forest…’

‘Then we will be called to arms, Fox.’

‘Why is it that you two know more than I, brothers?’

‘Why is it that you think that I call you fool, Fool.?’

‘Do either of you know anything of snake alchemy then?’

Louarn’s question is met with an empty silence.

‘It would appear that I am not the only fool then.’

They continue in silence for a while although Louarn picks up his pace a little, talk of war is making him anxious. With the anxiety up creeps a blackness. He is just about to ask Breac to scout ahead to discern its source when he is interrupted by the screeching alarm of a jay. Breac leaves Louarn’s ruff and flies off in the direction of the distress call, leaving badger and fox following at full charge.

‘It is Bredda knocked to the ground I can not tell if he is broken yet. She is here, the line of Lilith. She feels so foul Louarn, full of darkness, her eyes are Void. I fear we are come too late.’

‘Then we must hold her to her light brother. I am almost there.’

‘I fear she has none to hold to, she means to finish our brother Bredda.’

‘Stand firm brother we’re here.’

Just as Cerridwen climbs up the bank out of the stream looking for that screeching jay that was attacking her, a big old angry badger leaps off the top of the bank knocking her back into the stream. The shock of cold water seeping into her knickers as she sits waste deep in the stream, momentarily quells the blackened bile and a light flashes within her eye. She looks up to find a large red dog fox staring down at her with a silent snarl. There’s something about him that feels familiar. Her head is pounding and a chill is seeping under her skin from her wet clothes. She rolls over so that she can better stand up. Broc keckers a warning from his guard stance on the opposite bank. Cerri keeps low and puts her hands out towards both animals, as much to calm herself as them.

‘Hey it’s ok now I mean you no harm.’

‘Tell that to brother Bredda.’

Cerri’s heart catapults against the front of her skull, startled by the talking fox. Wanting to pass out with the pain she cradles her forehead with her hand. As the pain subsides a little she realises who he’s talking about.

‘Did you say Bredda? A little blue jay? He’s my Messeer. What’s happened to him?’

‘You knocked him to the ground. He might have broken.’

‘Broken? I don’t remember… I don’t… forgive me I….’

Cerri drops her head into her hands and sobs, the pain is becoming nauseating.

‘I don’t know what in Azrial’s name is happening to me.’

Signalling Broc to keep on guard, Louarn drops his head, shakes from his tail along his spine, and down through his neck so that Cerridwen’s Crown slides off, landing at the bottom of the bank.

‘Put this on it will help with the pain.’

‘Thank you. What is it?’

‘Gort and woodbine, the Lady Achren made it for you.’

As Cerri bends down to pick up the wreath the scent of woodbine fills her nostrils. Drawing the scent into her sinuses it feels as if a dark curtain is begin pulled back, releasing her consciousness.

‘Woodbine is honeysuckle isn’t it, so gort must be the ivy yes? Where am I supposed to wear it?’

‘Our Lady called it Cerridwen’s Crown so I presume you should wear it in your head.’

‘Yes I suppose that would make sense. So this woman, who is she?’

Outraged with the indignation of hearing the spirit of the forest referred to in such an off hand manner, Broc can not contain himself.

‘THIS WOMAN! Is the Lady of all life here in the forest, she is the spirit of us all.’

Cerri spins around to face Broc who is sliding, hackles raised, down the bank intent on barging this arrogant human being to its knees. She just manages to skip sideways in time to narrowly avoid a cracked shin.

‘Wow now Mr. Badger I meant no offense. I have no idea who or what anything is any more. My whole life’s been turn upside down and inside out. I feel like I’m being possessed by Azrial himself and now I’m talking to an angry badger and a fox who some how know my name and my Messeer and I still don’t even know what that is!’

Cerri slumps down on the bank, burying her head in her hands she takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself down.

‘Has she gone? There is no sense of foulness I can feel.’

‘No it has transmuted, for now she is fair. How is Bredda?’

‘He will live, no serious damage, just a couple of broken feathers and a little shock.’

‘Tell him is Messeer is waiting for him.’

‘His what?’

Louarn steps forward and sniffs at Cerri’s hand.

‘Forgive us but humans are not known to be our friends let alone our kin. It has been a long time since we shared the common speak with any of your kind. My name is Louarn.’

‘And I am Broc. It was the Lady Achren, Spirit of the Forest, that sent us to help you.’

‘Help me with what?’

‘To hold to your light my Messeer.’

‘Oh Bredda! I’m so sorry. I had no control of myself I didn’t even know you were there. I was just so full of malicious venom.’

‘That’s exactly what is was. Now, how you dance with the snake will determine whether you become fair or foul. So you are the last of Lilith?’

‘My mother’s name is Bethan actually not Lilith. I still don’t have any idea what is going on and your riddles really aren’t very helpful magpie.’

‘My name is Breac and you must be Cerridwen. Tell us human do you know what strange creatures have been sent to rip up root and herb, dig terror into the soil and breathe a choking death.’

Cerri remembers the conversation she’d had with her Dah last night, “River Mead…..all rights granted to CERC…..They’ve already brought in the diggers.”

‘Unfortunately I think I do. They are diggers, machines made by humans to clear ground. They are not creatures, they are not alive, they need humans to make them move.’

‘What do you mean “clear ground”?’

‘Clear it of the things growing in it Broc. To move rock, earth and stone to create an open level trail.’

‘A trail to where?’

‘Where did you see these diggers?’

‘The lower edge of the forest, where the river leaves the woods and follows the swallows as they retreat to the warmer skies.’

‘Then they are trying to get to the sulphur pits, I believe, at the bottom of the mountain by the Western Waters.’

‘Forgive us Messeer but these words they have no meaning.’

‘Oh, sorry, yes. Umm….sulphur, it smells like very rotten eggs. The Western Waters are the name we give to the sea, the big water at the edge of the forest where the sun goes down. And a mountain….’

Louarn cuts her short.

‘She is Mother’s Bane and on the edge of the Great Ocean at her feet lies a lake of Dragon’s blood. I think this is the “sulphur pits” of which you speak. But why do they wish to make a trail there? There are no fish that can live in it and the air is hard to breathe.’

‘It is the gas they want….sorry..er..it is the blood that makes the air hard to breathe that they want. It feeds their diggers and many other machines that they make. To humans it is very valuable.’

‘More valuable than the trees? More valuable than the earth? More valuable than life?’

Broc shakes with anger and disbelief. Cerri falls silent with shame. Ashamed to be human. Ashamed that until now the full measure of what is at stake has not occurred to her and she is more aware than most. Ashamed that she has not considered that life outside of human life, is life. Standing amongst these fellows of the forest she feels very small and insignificant.

‘We are all equal in the forest Messeer. You are no less significant than us.’

‘And no more significant either Bredda, I have been so arrogant in my humanity. I am humbled by you. Please call me Cerri. I would be your sister.’

‘We are all Brothers here Cerri, no matter our clan, our gender, our relation, we are bound by bonds of mutual trust, respect and equality. We are all part of the Brotherhood of life.’

‘If it is the dragon’s blood that they are after then they will have to trail straight through the centre of the forest, Louarn.’

‘I know Breac. They will rip up the ancient ones, they will dismantle the forest.’

‘No wonder she is raising us then, she is calling us to war Brother.’

‘I fear that it will do much more than dismantle the forest Brothers. May I call you Brothers?’

‘It does not sit well, but it is the way that it should be. What do you mean, “it will do more”?’

‘If it is what I think it is, Brother Fox, then it may well crack the very earth asunder and set her molten heart flowing upon the ground. The forest will burn.’

Cerridwen is beginning to get a feel for speaking in the common tongue, it is natural and easy. Looking up for a moment she is surprised to see how late the day has become. As the sun drops so too does the temperature, Cerri shivers inside her sodden clothes and her teeth begin to chatter. She rubs her arms to keep warm.

‘I’m sorry Brothers, I must leave. I promised Tom I’d be back before it gets dark and I have no idea how far I’ve walked. Besides if I don’t get moving I’ll freeze, I need to get out of these wet clothes. I feel that we will meet again though and we have Bredda to keep in touch.’

Their minds are filled with many troubling thoughts as they watch Cerri pick her way along the opposite bank, heading back up stream. Before she leaves their sight she turns once more to say a final good bye, but mostly to check that they are really there and not a crazy delusion.

‘It was nice to meet you all and thank you for bringing me my crown. Farewell brothers, journey well.’

‘And to you Bredda, keep safe my Messeer.’

‘Like wise Cerri, remember to keep your crown, her work is not yet done.’