Muse (Tales of Silver Downs Book 1) (22 page)

I looked up.
 

And there she was.

Rhiwallon was perched at the very top of the massive rocky tower. Or at least, there was a figure with long red hair up there. I couldn't manoeuvre my head enough to see her clearly but what I saw made my courage falter. She was wrapped in a cocoon of silvery threads, upright, perhaps tied to a tall rock.
 

A gossamer dress. The riddle seemed so obvious now. And her greatest fear? Abduction? The beast? I could only guess.

I carefully withdrew my head from the web.
 

"Is she there?" Owain's face was pale and sombre.

"She's at the top of a tower of rocks, restrained with webs. One of us is going to have to climb up to cut her free."

We were both silent for a few moments.

"It has to be me," I said miserably, feeling like a pretty poor sort of hero. "We would have to cut too much of the web to get you through and the rocks might not be stable enough for your weight."

"But we have no way of cutting the web."

I retrieved the little bronze dagger from my boot. Owain didn't comment on my secret weapon. I assessed the threads. Here, a part of the web looked thinner and more crudely made than the rest. Bile rose in my throat and I forced it back down. There was no choice. We couldn't leave Rhiwallon here.

Bramble's eyes were wide and full of concern.
 

"Be good for Owain." My voice wobbled dangerously. I bent down to stroke her whiskery cheek and she leaned into my touch, briefly closing her eyes. I clenched my jaw against the tears threatening to fall. "I'll be back soon."

Bramble whimpered and my heart ached. If I didn't go right now, I might lose what little courage I had.

"We'll be right here," Owain said. "Waiting."

I turned back to the web and raised my dagger. The thread was thicker than my thumb. My hand trembled and I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm. Careful not to touch the strand in case it clung to me, I gently sawed at it. Vibrations danced along the web no matter how light I tried to make my touch.

The strand parted. I sawed at the next and soon it too fell away. One after another, I cut the sticky strings. One more and I would have an opening large enough to step through. Slowly the dagger sliced through and that strand too fell away.
 

I sucked in a deep breath as I readied myself to step through. I wanted to depart bravely, like a hero in an ancient tale, striding forth to meet danger without fear in my heart. Instead, my legs wobbled and my hands even more. Some hero I was. All I wanted to do was turn and flee. I could grab Bramble and be gone in moments.

The thought shamed me, for I knew Owain would never leave Rhiwallon here. I had come for her only because Fiachra had hinted that my companions would be important to my quest. Owain would rescue her, or die trying, because it was the right thing to do.

"Watch for the beast," I said. Not exactly a bard-worthy final comment.
 

Clutching the dagger in my sweaty palm, heart thudding so loudly that surely the beast must hear even if it hadn't noticed the damage to its home, I stepped through the web.
 

Far above my head, the sticky strands held Rhiwallon upright but her head was tipped forward and hair obscured her face. I couldn't tell whether she was unconscious or asleep.

"Diarmuid, what are you doing?" Owain's voice was soft and urgent.

"I'm about to start climbing." I tucked the dagger into my boot.

"Hurry," he said and his voice caught on the word.
 

Sweat trickled down the side of my face as I stared up at Rhiwallon's limp form and wished it was Owain here rather than me. I took a deep breath and prepared to climb.

Most of the rocks were only knee-high to me so as long as the tower was stable, I should be able to climb it. I stepped up onto the first rock and scrabbled for a grip, my fingers slick with sweat. I hesitated but my purchase seemed steady so far. Another step up, then another. Slowly, slowly, agonisingly slowly.
 

Step, grip, pull, pause.

I kept my eyes focused on the rocks around me. I didn't dare look up or down for fear of losing my balance and falling.
 

Step, grip, pull.
 

A heart-stopping moment as a rock shifted beneath me. I caught my breath and dug my fingers in so hard that a fingernail cracked. I eased up onto the next rock.

Step, grip, pull. Rock by rock.
 

Another fingernail broke. I was leaving scarlet smears on the rocks.

Time seemed to stop. There was no end to this tower. I would climb forever and never reach the top.

Finally, I hauled myself over the edge and wiped bloody fingers on my pants. My hands throbbed but there was no time to check the damage. The beast could be on its way back.
 

Rhiwallon was tied to a tall rock. Thick strands of sticky web held her upright.

"Rhiwallon," I whispered. "It's me, Diarmuid."

She moaned and twitched.
 

With one trembling hand, I drew the hair back from her face. I had expected her to be bruised and bloodied but other than the paleness of her skin, she appeared uninjured.
 

"Rhiwallon." I patted her cheek, leaving smudges of blood. "Come on, Rhiwallon, you need to wake up."

Finally her eyes opened. They fixed on me, seemingly unknowing but then her eyes focused.

"Diarmuid?" she croaked.

"It's all right." I tried to sound more confident than I felt. "I'm going to get you out of here. Just be quiet."

Rhiwallon looked around. I knew the exact moment she understood where she was for she moaned again, louder this time, and began to pull frantically at her sticky bonds.

"Hold still," I whispered. "I can cut the web but I need you to hold still."

"No, no." She thrashed and kicked but had little room to move. Her head cracked against the rock and she was still again.

"Rhiwallon? Come on, stay awake."

She moaned.

"Don't move," I whispered. "And be quiet. I don't know where the beast is."

Rhiwallon went limp. She didn't seem to be unconscious, but rather unresponsive. I took a deep breath, trying not to panic. I couldn't carry her down.

I sliced through the sticky strands and she collapsed at my feet, eyes open, staring blankly.

"Rhiwallon, get up." I flinched as I slapped her on the cheek. "Come on."

Rhiwallon blinked, her eyes dazed. I tugged her arm and managed to get my shoulder partially under her. She made some effort to stand as I hauled her to her feet. Once I got her up, she could stand without assistance.

"I need you to listen to me." I grabbed her chin and turned her face towards me. She looked in my direction, if not in my eyes. "Concentrate."

Her eyes were blank.

"We have to climb down these rocks. I can't carry you down. You have to climb. Do you understand?"

Rhiwallon blinked.

I dragged her over to the edge. "Look down."
 

Slowly, she tipped her head down.

"Can you see where we have to go? We need to climb down these rocks, all the way to the bottom. Owain and Bramble are waiting down there for us."

"Bramble?" she whispered.
 

"Yes, Bramble. She's at the bottom. You need to climb down to her."

"Climb."

"That's right. Let's go."

Somehow I got Rhiwallon down onto her belly and edged her, feet first, over the side. I could hardly breathe as I waited to see whether she would simply let go and fall.
 

"You have to climb," I said. "Go down."

Rhiwallon didn't move, didn't respond. Did she even know where she was? Neither of us would survive a fall from this height.

"Move." I made my voice as harsh as I could. "Go on, move. Now."

She hesitated, wavered, and I thought she would surely fall. But then her fingers flexed, taking hold of a rock and clinging to it as she lowered herself down onto the next one.

I could have cried with relief. As soon as Rhiwallon had progressed far enough that she couldn't grab me if she panicked, I followed her down.

Our progress was slow for I had to continually prompt her. She kept stopping as if she had forgotten what she was doing. So I told her to move, to go down, to get to the next rock. I followed slowly, staying well out of her reach and trying not to panic about how slowly we moved.

We were halfway down when Owain's cry echoed through the cavern.

"Diarmuid, it comes."

"Go, Rhiwallon," I snapped, dropping down on to the next rock and almost landing on her fingers.

She started and looked up at me. For a moment I thought I saw a flicker of comprehension and then it was gone, replaced by the vacant stare.
 

"Move," I snarled.
 

I snapped my head around from left to right, up and down, but couldn't see the beast. It had to be near.

Then I heard Owain again, a ringing call of challenge, which was answered by a low hiss. There was a crash like rocks smashing together.

I gritted my teeth and moved faster.

Another clash of rocks. Another yell from Owain.

We were almost at the bottom.

"Faster," I hissed.

Almost there.

One rock to go.

Then I saw the beast, which was on my side of the web and far too close to the rocks on which we perched. The beast was easily twice my height with a furry black body and too many legs to count. I cowered as it reared up on its back legs, hissing, and all eight eyes looked directly at me. Venom dripped from its fangs and sizzled on the rocky floor.

Time seemed to blur and disappear. The beast hissed again.
 

Owain yelled and a rock slammed into the beast's side.

It yowled.
 

I dropped down from the rocks, landing heavily. Pain shot through my injured ankle and I smothered a cry.
 

Rhiwallon still hesitated on the last rock.

"Come on, Rhiwallon."

She climbed down, moving far too slowly. As soon as her feet touched the ground, I grabbed her hand and we ran. My ankle burned with every step but it held my weight. Owain and the beast blocked the hole I had cut so I ran towards the far end of the web. If Owain could keep the beast occupied long enough, I could cut a new hole.

Rhiwallon stumbled and fell. I hauled her back to her feet, ignoring the blood on her knees and palms.

Another hiss came from behind us. As we reached the far corner, I looked back and the sight of the enormous creature leaping towards us, legs outstretched, was worse than any nightmare. The beast's mouth gaped open, red and terrifying and far too large.
 

Rhiwallon stumbled again and fell, dragging me with her. The last thing I saw was furry black underbelly. Then I was squashed beneath it, still clutching Rhiwallon's hand with everything I had. The world went black.

The cavern floor was hard beneath me, smooth but unforgiving on my sore body. I opened my eyes. Rocks towered above me and the enormous web was still. I lifted my arms, expecting the resistance of gossamer bonds. My arms weren't tied, but they were slick with blood and a putrid greyish goo.

I licked my dry lips, tasted something foul, and tried to speak. My first attempt was an incoherent mumble but it was enough to bring Bramble to my side. She sniffed me, nose close to my face, dark eyes worried.

"Hey girl," I tried to say. What came out was another moan but Bramble wagged her tail and gave a short bark.

Owain was by my side in an instant. His solemn face chilled me.

"Rhiwallon?" My voice was hoarse and my throat hurt to say even that much. Owain's face stilled and my heart dropped.

"Alive," he said. "But not well."

I tried to sit up but my body wouldn't cooperate and my bloodied hands couldn't grip the rocky floor. Owain helped me, his shoulder strong and sturdy beneath my arm.
 

"What is this stuff all over me?" My head throbbed and the cavern shifted.

"Beast exploded."

"It's dead?"

Owain's face was grim. "Dead all right."

"Where is it?"

He shook his head. "Don't need to see."

"Where's Rhiwallon?"

"Behind you. I'll help, when you're ready." His mouth was set in a grim line.

Once the cavern stopped spinning, Owain helped me to my feet, gripping my shoulders tightly. My ankle throbbed. My head felt like thistledown and my whole body hurt. I was sticky with spider goo and couldn't find a clean place on either pants or shirt to wipe my hands. And we had no water. My stomach rolled and I clenched my jaw, fighting not to add vomit to the mess covering me.

Rhiwallon sat on a rock a dozen or so paces behind where I had lain, her shoulders hunched and hair hanging down over her face. She too was covered in blood and goo.
 

Owain held me up as I staggered over to her. Bramble was right by my side, pressing her nose against my calf each time I paused. When we reached Rhiwallon, Bramble sat beside her, close but not touching, looking up at her with troubled eyes and lowered ears.
 

"Rhiwallon?" I croaked.

She sat perfectly still, hands clasped loosely in her lap. I reached out one hand to part her hair, pushing it away from her face. I wouldn't have touched her, covered in sticky goo as I was, except it was all over her too. Globs of the stuff hung in her hair and on her cheeks. Rhiwallon's face was blank, her eyes open but empty.
 

Snatches of tales ran through my mind, stories of those who had returned from the lands of the fey with their minds damaged, their lives forever changed. I swallowed hard. She wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me.
 

"Has she spoken?" I asked.

Owain shook his head.

"She's-" I couldn't put it into words.

"Gone," Owain supplied.

"I think so. She's… she's traumatised."

"Will she come back?"

I waved a hand in front of her eyes. Owain's face was hopeful, his voice tentative. I couldn't tell him that sometimes folk came back from the fey lands with their minds broken.