The Moon of Gomrath (5 page)

“Why? What—?”

“Listen. Can we enter the house without being seen from the window?”

“Ye – es.”

“Good. I think I have not the power to do what should be done, but we must think first of Susan. Now mark what I say: we must not speak when we are nearer the house.

“Lead me to the room. I shall make little sound, but you must walk as though you had no guile. Go to the window and open it: then we shall see.”

Colin paused with his hand on the latch and looked over his shoulder. Albanac stood at the top of the stairs; he nodded. Colin opened the door.

Susan lay there, staring. Colin crossed to the window and unlatched it. At the sound, Albanac stepped into the room: he held the Mark of Fohla, open, in his hand. Susan snarled, her eyes flashing wide, and tore the blankets from her, but Albanac threw himself across the room and on to the bed, striking Susan under the chin with his shoulder and pinning her arm beneath him while he locked the bracelet about her wrist. Then, as quickly, he sprang back to the door and drew his sword.

“Colin! Outside!”

“What have you done?” cried Colin. “What's happening?”

Albanac's hand bit into his shoulder and flung him out of the room. Albanac jumped after him and slammed the door shut.

“Alb—”

“Quiet!” said Albanac, and his voice was iron. “When she is free, then must we beware. Let us hope the bracelet causes such pain that escape means more than vengeance.”

They stood motionless, rigid; the only sound was the creaking of Susan's bed; then that stopped. Silence.

“Albanac!
Look!
”

A black coil of smoke was sliding under the door. It
rolled forward on to the floor, where it gathered in an unstable pyramid, which grew.

“If you would live,” whispered Albanac, “stay by me!”

The pyramid was now some three feet high. Near the top glowed two red eyes: near the base was what could have been a shadowy mouth, or a shallow beak. Then the thing began to grow. It grew in all directions, like a balloon, and it grew in spasms, with moments of rest in between.

Albanac raised his sword, and spoke in a hard, clear voice.

“Power of wind have I over thee.

“Power of wrath have I over thee.

“Power of fire have I over thee.

“Power of thunder have I over thee.

“Power of lightning have I over thee.”

The pyramid now filled the house: it was no longer a pyramid: it was everything – a universal darkness in which there were two flat discs, the colour of blood, and a ribbon of blue fire that was Albanac's sword.

“Power of storms have I over thee.

“Power of moon have I over thee.

“Power of sun have I over thee.

“Power of stars have I over thee.”

The blank eyes swam closer, now as big as plates, and the darkness began to pulse, and Colin gripped Albanac's
cloak like a drowning man; for the pulse was the rhythm of his heartbeats, and he could not tell where he ended and the darkness began.

“Power of the – heavens – and – of the worlds – have I – over – thee.

“Power – power –
I cannot hold it!
”

Albanac lifted his sword above his head with both hands, and drove it down into the blackness between the eyes.

“
Eson! Eson! Emaris!
”

There was a glare of light, and a tearing crash. The house quivered, the door burst inwards, a wind shrieked through the room, and all was quiet. Albanac and Colin slowly raised their heads from the floor, and pulled themselves upright against the doorposts.

The room was smashed and the furniture scattered, the window frame had splintered from the wall. Albanac's sword was in pieces. Only Susan was undisturbed: she lay quietly, breathing deeply, fast asleep. Colin went to the bed and looked down at her.

“Sue. It
is
– Sue?”

Albanac nodded.

There were voices outside in the yard, then heavy footsteps on the stairs, and Gowther stood in the doorway.

“What—?”

Bess appeared behind him.

“Who—? Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!”

“Howd thy noise, lass,” said Gowther. He looked at Albanac. “Now, maister, what's all this about?”

“That, farmer Mossock, was the Brollachan.”

“The
what
?”

“Ay, and there is work to be done, and swiftly – though I doubt if we shall pick up the trail. I must go to Fundindelve, but I shall be back. Let Susan sleep, and see to it that the bracelet stays on her wrist, then she will be safe.”

“I was just on my way for the doctor,” said Gowther.

“No!” Albanac turned to Gowther. “You must not do that. Let Cadellin see her first.”

“But—”

“Believe me! You may do harm. This is no business for men.”

“No? Happen you're reet – and happen you're not. She's looking better. I'll grant you. All reet: we'll wait on a bit: but you'd best be sharp.”

“Thank you, farmer Mossock.”

Albanac ran from the house, and they watched him till he crossed over the Riddings, and not a word was spoken.

Words were spoken later. Bess and Gowther listened to
Colin's story, and they accepted it. They had to. The wrecked bedroom was too compelling a witness.

They had spent several hours repairing what they could and patching up the rest. Through it all Susan had slept without a break: for Bess it was the one consolation of the day. It was a restful sleep, not the dead, withdrawn, near-coma that had troubled Bess more than she would admit. Susan was still pale, but it was a healthy paleness compared with what had gone before.

The tap at the door was so light that if they had not been sitting quietly at the table over a late tea they would not have heard it.

“Was that someone knocking?” said Gowther.

“I think it was,” said Bess. “But I might be wrong.”

“Hallo,” said Gowther. “Who is it?”

“Albanac.”

“Oh!” Gowther crossed to the door. “Er – ay, come in.”

Albanac entered the kitchen, followed by Uthecar and Cadellin. The wizard stooped under the beams: when he stood upright his head could not be seen.

“Er – take a seat, will you?” said Gowther

“Thank you,” said Cadellin. “How is Susan?”

“Oh, she's still asleep; and we've not tried to wake her,
seeing how Albanac here said we should leave her be, but she's looking much better – else we'd have had the doctor to help her by now, I'll tell thee.”

“
Still
sleeping?” said Cadellin.

“You have not taken the bracelet from her wrist?” said Albanac sharply.

“No.”

“I think we must see her,” said Cadellin.

“What's wrong?” said Colin. “Why are you all looking so grim?”

“I hope there is nothing wrong,” said the wizard. “Albanac came in time, and it is well he did. The Brollachan does not willingly leave a body until it is beyond repair. Susan has escaped – I hope without injury – but it would be wise for us to see her.”

“Look,” said Bess, who had been sitting agape since the moment she saw the wizard. “I dunner pretend to follow this here, but if Susan needs attention, the doctor's the mon to do it. I've said so all along.”

“Ay,” said Gowther; “you con go and have a look at her, if you wish, but that's all. After what she seems to have been through, the less mumbo-jumbo theer is about her the better. We're having the doctor in tomorrow to give her a good over-hauling, and then we'll see.”

“Hm,” said Cadellin.

They went upstairs. Susan was still asleep. Cadellin looked at her.

“It is safe to wake her, farmer Mossock. Her body is not hurt, and she is rested.”

Bess leant over the bed and shook Susan gently. “Susan. Come on, love: it's time to wake up.” Susan did not move. Bess shook her harder. “Come on, lass. Wake up.” But Susan gave no sign of waking, no matter how Bess tried.

“Mistress Mossock,” said Cadellin softly, “let me try.”

Bess stepped back, and the wizard took hold of Susan's wrist and felt her pulse, then he lifted her eyelid. “Hm.” He put his left hand on her brow, and closed his eyes. The room was silent. A minute, two minutes passed.

“Is she all right?” said Colin. The wizard did not reply. He seemed to be scarcely breathing. “Cadellin!”

“Here! What's going on?” said Gowther, and made to grab Cadellin's arm. But Albanac stepped in front of him.

“No, farmer Mossock: do not interfere.”

As he spoke, Cadellin opened his eyes. “She is not here. She is lost to us.”

“
What
?” cried Colin. “What do you mean? She's not dead. She can't be! Look! She's only asleep!”

“Her body sleeps,” said Cadellin. “Let us leave her now: there is something you must know.”

“T
he Brollachan,” said Albanac, “has no shape. It must take that of others. But no mortal frame can bear it for long: it is too fierce a tenant. Soon the body stretches, warps, becomes the
wrong
shape, then it dwindles, crumbles, is a husk, and the Brollachan sloughs it as a snake its skin and takes another. We came in time with Susan: had we not, she would have withered like the white lily in the black frost. Now she is safe: if we can find her.”

“But are you sure it's Sue upstairs?” said Colin. “When I touched her hand last night it felt – different – not a hand at all.”

“Do not worry,” said Cadellin. “That would be a memory from an earlier shape: such things linger with the Brollachan: its mind is slow to change. Do not men who have lost a limb often feel pain in hand or foot that is not there?”

“But wheer's all this getting us?” said Gowther. “Susan's lying up theer, and we conner wake her. Summat'll have to be done.”

The wizard sighed. “I do not know the answer, farmer Mossock. The Brollachan drove her from her body, and where she is now I cannot see. She is beyond my magic: we shall call on other powers to find her, and until she is found she must lie here, and the bracelet of Angharad Goldenhand must never leave her wrist.”

“I wish it never had,” said Albanac. “I brought it to her the moment Atlendor gave it back to me, but that was not soon enough.”

“Now see here,” said Gowther, “how long is this caper to go on for?”

“It will not be a short business,” said the wizard. “Weeks – months – let us hope not years. She is far away.”

“Then it's the doctor for her, reet here and now,” said Gowther. “I've had enough messing about.”

“Farmer Mossock, you would pour water on burning oil!” cried the wizard. “Is it not clear to you yet? This is no matter for mortal skills. What would happen? She would be taken from us. Our task would grow five-fold.”

“Ay, but hospital's the place for her if she's going to stay like this: she'll need special feeding, for one thing.”

“No. We shall take care of her. She will be safe with us. Farmer Mossock, the worst you could do is what you
plan to do. Susan's danger,
our
danger, will increase if you do not go our way in this.”

Gowther looked searchingly at the wizard. “Well – I dunner like this at all – but I've seen enough of you to tell that you know what's what in these goings on. So we'll compromise. I may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. Unless Susan takes a turn for the worse, I'll do nowt about it for the next three days.”

“Three days!” said Cadellin. “There is little can be done in three days.”

“Ay, well, I wouldner know,” said Gowther. “But that's the way it is.”

“Then we must accept it, and hope for second thoughts.” The wizard rose from his chair. “Colin, will you be at Goldenstone at noon tomorrow? There is something that Susan will need.”

Colin turned off the road on to the track that ran along the wood side. On his left were pine and oak, on his right the fields and hills.

He came to the grey block of sandstone that stood at the border of the path and was called the Goldenstone. It was so crudely shaped that few people would notice that it carried the mark of tools, and was not one of the many outcrops on the Edge, but had been placed there at some
time of the world for a forgotten purpose. Uthecar and Albanac were sitting with their backs against it.

“Sit you here, Colin,” said Albanac. “It is as dry as anywhere. How is Susan?”

“She's no different. Have you found anything that'll help?”

“We have not,” said Uthecar. “Though rest has been far from our heads and sleep from our eyes since we left you.”

“Cadellin uses all his power,” said Albanac, “but not even he can see where she is. But take good heart to you: we shall not give up, and others help us. We have come now from Redesmere: the Lady of the Lake sends you this – there will be no need of other food.” He handed Colin a leather bottle. “Wine from the table of Angharad Goldenhand has many virtues.”

“Thank you,” said Colin. “But you are going to find Sue, aren't you? It is just a question of time? And in what sort of a place is she? How can she be somewhere else when she's lying in bed?”

“I will not lie to you,” said Albanac. “The Susan that sleeps is Length and Breadth and Height: but the real Susan is none of this. The two you have always known as one, but the Brollachan split them like a new-whetted blade in kindling.”

“I am thinking,” said Uthecar. “I am thinking that Cadellin will not find her.”

“He must, and will,” said Albanac. “I had not thought to see you so quickly cowed.”

“Nay, you take me wrong. I am thinking that the High Magic is too keen for the task.”

“I do not understand.”