Cloudfyre Falling - a dark fairy tale (68 page)

As Hawkmoth dragged a collection
of crystalline stakes from his pack he said, ‘I am guessing of
course, but perhaps beyond those vents up there.’

They studied the spaces between
the fingers as Hawkmoth went about placing each stake around them,
effectively cordoning off a wide grassed area of the
clearing.

‘
And who or what
tolls it?’
Gargaron
asked.

‘
Perhaps that we may soon
discover,’ Hawkmoth replied, going about and adjusting his
stakes.

The others watched him.

‘
What have you there?’ Locke
asked.

‘
It be a Storm Haven, kindly
provided by my old friend Skitecrow. Something developed by my
Order for use in alpine expeditions. Effective against rock falls,
blizzards and avalanches. Thus it should provide us shelter should
this tower toll its bell.’

‘
How does it work?’ Gargaron
asked.

‘
The onset of any shockwave ought
to activate these crystals,’ Hawkmoth explained. ‘An umbrella of
Deeplight will form, a powerful barrier sourced from the seas off
the coast of Erohsvtta. We simply shelter beneath. And wait out the
shockwaves unharmed.’ He stood there brushing down his hands,
surveying his handiwork. ‘Right then. Let us inspect this tower,
shall we. Oh, and keep back from the pond. There is a stench to it
I do not much trust.’

3

The liquid in the pond were the
colour of liquid silver and it lay as still as a mirror. Trees,
leaves, sky, could be seen perfectly reflected upon its surface.
The stink made its way into Gargaron’s lungs. He coughed it out.
‘What be that acrid stink?’ he said, his eyes watering.

Hawkmoth had no certain answer.
‘Mercuruan. As would be my guess. It smells as such.’

‘
Mercuruan?’ Locke said. ‘Never
heard of it. Poisonous, I take it?’

‘
Oh aye. Take a sip of Mercuruan
and it shall burn holes in your throat and mouth before it even
reaches your belly,’ Hawkmoth assured them. ‘Wade through it and it
shall strip the flesh from your bones as easily as a butcher’s
cleaver slices through meat. Thus we must exercise caution while we
are here. To bring this tower down, to destroy its capacity, may
require methodical planning. Though keep your eyes peeled and ears
open. If anyone suspects or sees the smallest sign that the bell be
about to chime, then yell out so that we might all retreat in time
to this safe zone. Our mission here may take one sweep of the
clock, or it may take several days. We shall set up camp within
this protected area, if need be. Though we shall not leave this
woodland until we have taken out the infernal bell.’

‘
How do you propose we tackle it?’
Locke asked studying the tower. ‘Call out. Knock. See if anyone’s
home?’

Hawkmoth considered Locke’s jest,
gazing up at the enormous hand grasping the tower’s midsection.
‘Aye. Why not?’

‘
I were jesting, of course,
sorcerer,’ Locke said.

‘
I realise,’ Hawkmoth told him.
‘Though finding out who or what lies within be a good starting
point.’

‘
How might we do that?’ Gargaron
asked. ‘If we cannot cross the pond?’

The sorcerer looked thoughtful. ‘I
am not certain we need to cross the pond, giant.’ He turned to
Melai. ‘Dear woods nymph, how are your wings?’

‘
In fine fettle.’

‘
Good. Do you think then you might
fly to the hand up there and report what you see beyond those
windows?’

Melai gazed up the tower’s leg,
trying her best to ignore the goggling face. ‘I could,
aye.’

‘
Be mindful though, keep your
distance. I suspect this Empty Tower be enchanted.’

‘
Enchanted?’

On the Ghartst cave paintings
Hawkmoth had seen symbols of people reaching out and touching the
tower, symbols of people lying dead about its base. To touch the
tower might put one to sleep, he had surmised. He conveyed this to
Melai.

‘
To sleep? Or death?’ she
asked.

‘
Perhaps either. So stray nowhere
near it.’

‘
Yet close enough so that I might
spy what lies within?’ she said.

‘
Such be my idea. Though if you
think it be too dangerous then let it be known and we shall find
another way.’

‘
What other way would there be?’
Melai asked. ‘None of you have wings.’

‘
There are trees we could scale,’
he told her. ‘A spyglass from a tree may just as easily yield us
what we wish to know.’

‘
And it may not,’ Melai
suggested.

‘
We shall not know until we try
it.’

‘
None of this sounds encouraging,’
Gargaron said.

‘
It does not,’ Melai agreed.
‘Though, if this tower houses a death bell that killed my dear
sisters, then its demise be the reason I am here.’

‘
Well said,’ Locke told
her.

For a few moments they all stood
there gazing up at the windows.

4

‘
Right then,’ Hawkmoth said. ‘Shall
we get started?’

‘
Aye, let’s,’ said Locke eagerly.
‘We haven’t come this far just to admire the view.’

Gargaron eyed Melai. He did not
wish to express it but he felt some anxiety about what she were
about to do. ‘You feel up to this?’ he asked her.

‘
Yes. I be fine.’

He nodded. ‘Right then, be safe.’

‘
And have your weapons at the
ready,’ Hawkmoth warned. ‘Everybody. Our very presence here is
bound to arouse some sort of suspicion. And once we begin our
picking about the tower we might just bring the grubs out of the
woodwork, so to speak.’

‘
Let them come,’ Locke
said.

Removing his sword, Gargaron
looked around, searching the woodland that surrounded them. ‘Right
then,’ he said. ‘Good luck to all.’ And he extended his hand to
emphasise his words with the offer of a brief hand shake to his
companions. Hawkmoth took the giant’s hand before Locke reached out
and placed his hand on theirs. Melai, fluttering amidst them, not
to be left out, did likewise.

‘
Friends till the end,’ Gargaron
said with a smile. The others replied, ‘Friends to the end’ and
Locke followed up with, ‘Now let us bring this blasted tower down
and be home in time for tea.’

At that, and he could not help
himself, Gargaron found himself laughing. ‘I am sorry,’ he said.
‘But no, you are right, Locke. Let us do this. And if we may, let
us be home in time for tea.’ On impulse then, Gargaron reached wide
and dragged them all to his chest and gripped them in a mighty bear
hug. ‘When we are done here, you are all invited back to Hovel,
where I shall personally cook and serve you up roast suckling hog,
the best you will ever sample. Oh, and for you Melai, Hibiscus
flowers, Golden Spore, Juniper sprouts, redmelon, and the best
Spotted Blues from Summer Woods.’

None of them could know it… but it
were the last moment they would share together.

5

Melai lifted away toward the
windows, determined to keep her eyes off the goggling face. She
suspected Hawkmoth had some plan once she’d scoped out the tower’s
interior. A magical explosive perhaps, thrown in through the vents.
Something to take out the bell.

As she fluttered upwards she
looked down occasionally. Half way to her intended destination she
became aware of an illusion…

Her companions on the ground had
grown small. It were as if she were elevated two hundred feet.
Gargaron, Hawkmoth, Locke, down there gripping their weapons,
looked like Mynych, the famed tiny people from myth, standing there
beside a vast lake rather than a pond. The warped perspective threw
her nerves. And she had to simply hover there for a moment, eyes
shut, to gather herself and calm her breathing.

What pushed her on eventually were
thoughts of her dear sisters: Corlai with her long auburn hair; and
Frelai the cheeky one, always laughing, always playing; Veylai the
elder one who knew so much about Thoonsk and her secrets; and
Yelai, the smallest and youngest and most innocent of them all and
the least most ready to die. The image of them in her mind pushed
her from her state of panic. ‘I will avenge you all,’ she hissed
through gritted teeth and flew toward the vents.

6

Here the tower itself now seemed
to evolve, to grow. By the time Melai had reached the stone fist it
had taken on absolutely enormous proportions. Melai felt as if she
were but a mere birdling flapping about the walls of some giant’s
fort. And when she dared look she realised with fright that the
face looming above her had eclipsed both suns. It felt to her like
it were the ceiling of some vast cavern, the ceiling of the world.
And those eyes, she knew, followed her every move.

To Gargaron, Hawkmoth, and Locke,
it were Melai who had grown miraculously smaller until she looked
no bigger than a puny fly against a cliff face. They had all but
lost her from sight. Hawkmoth had to employ his spyglass simply to
keep her monitored.

And it were while Hawkmoth, and
Gargaron too, had their sights fixed on their wood nymph, Locke
noticed movement in the woodland surrounding the clearing. He
turned and searched the tree trunks and what he sighted caused him
to back up, his blowpipe held close to his mouth.

‘
Why, looks as if we have
attracted some attention,’ he told his companions.

Gargaron, and now Hawkmoth, saw
strange feminine beings hanging upside-down from tree trunks.
Beings with grey tentacled legs, each with her torso arched
backwards, belly and breasts poking upwards into the air, their
peculiarly long arms dangling out behind them, their heads hanging
upside-down as if dead, yet their faceless visages somehow watched
them.

‘
Star angels,’ Hawkmoth said
softly.

And here these nightmare creatures
began to mewl.

7

Melai, oblivious to the goings on
below, rose finally to the level of the vents. She focused her
attention on the tower’s innards. But found she could see nothing
for it were too dark within. She would need to fly closer for a
clearer view. Which meant being in nearer proximity to the tower.
Hawkmoth’s warnings of the potential dangers of touching the
construction rang out in her mind. And up this close she thought
she saw hairs growing from the stone work, as if this tower were
not a construction at all, but something living.

It be sprouts of
some kind
, she convinced herself.
Weed or vine, nothing more
.

She steeled herself to flutter
forward but found herself thinking again of the leering face far
above. She could not be certain, for she did not wish to look, but
she felt as if the face had begun to grin at her.

Dare to take a
look within
, it seemed to say.
I dare it, child, oh I dare
it
.

Another voice,
one more familiar, entered her mind. And so real and tangible did
it seem that she swung about in flight, believing that someone or
something were hovering beside her.
Ignore
the great Face of Nothing
, it
said.

There were naught hovering by her,
nothing immediately above her, nor below.

Be calm,
Melai
, the voice said,
be calm now, dear. It be me, Hawkmoth
.

She gazed down. Way down there,
apparently a hundred leagues below her, stood Hawkmoth and the
others.

Ignore the Face
of Nothing
, the voice spoke again like a
breath upon her ears.
It is of the Id, an
idiot visage, a pest, a clown, reflecting and reacting to your
fears. Nothing more. It cannot harm you
.

But would you dare to look, my
dear?

Confusion twisted her thoughts.

Would you dare to look within, my
sweet?

Melai! Ignore what you hear, or
what you think you hear. Concentrate on my voice.

Still… dare to look within, my
child of the swamps. I dare it, I dare it, I do.

Melai withdrew her bow and nocked
an arrow. ‘Hawkmoth,’ she said. ‘Answer me this and answer me true,
so that I may know at least one of these voices I hear is yours.
When we first met, I asked you a question about the winds of
Ostamare. Tell me now the answer you gave me then.’

Oh my dear, I shall tell you just
as soon as you peer within and report on what you see.

‘
Hawkmoth?’ she asked pleadingly,
terrified, gazing down at him. ‘Hawkmoth? Do you speak to
me?’

No! But I
do.

She looked up and squealed.

The face, without her knowing, had
slid down the shaft of the tower leg and hovered there now mere
yards above her head, its enormous idiot eyes flicking back and
forth, alternatively watching her and focusing on events at ground
level, its enormous teeth still embedded in the
stonework.