NOVEL NEXT 17. I Felt the Good Earth Letting Go Its Grip
I Felt the Good Earth Letting Go Its Grip
The grass on the other side of the fence was long and scrubby. There were rabbit holes here. Crispy rabbit droppings crunched beneath my feet.
The base of the tower overhung by four feet, ready to fall, as though the pit had been carved out halfway beneath the foundations. Behind me I heard the creaking of the ship.
Fen was on the outside of the tower, climbing over a jagged spur of rock that projected right out over the edge. She was not laughing anymore. She chewed her lip, concentration, etched on her face. I noticed, not for the first time, how lithe she was. How well her muscles moved.
There was a ragged hole in the tower wall at the top of the spur. Llandred stretched out of it and grabbed hold of his sister’s hand, pulling her up. For a moment, she leaned back, way back, swinging from her brother’s arm, limp and laughing. She tilted her head towards me and flashed me a smile, white hair hanging from her forehead. Then Llandred pulled her inside. Through the hole, I saw him bow to her and press his lips to her hand. She bobbed a curtsey in return.
Esten went next. He moved carefully, and it took him a lot longer. Halfway up, he froze, clinging to the rock; his lips moved as though he were counting, then he lunged forward, grabbed his elder brother’s waiting hand, and Llandred and Fen pulled him inside together.
A moment later, Fen and Esten stood on the battlements side by side, looking down on me.
"Come on Bran!" she called. "Get a move on. There are snacks." She glanced up towards the house. "Seriously though, get a move on. If Mother sees us climbing here, she’ll throw a royal fit."
As I walked towards the edge, I sensed quite how deep the hole was. It fell away below me, as far as I could see, into pitchy darkness, darker than death. The walls were of rock, a great dark well, and then below the rock was something else, something that made my stomach heave.
Darkness defined.
The pit seemed to whisper to me, calling my name in languages I felt I ought to know. "Tamberlyn," it said, and I knew Esten had been right. It tugged at my soul, encouraging me to come just a little closer, just one more step. A small stream trickled over the edge, and fell, tumbling into the abyss. It pulled on the grass and the light of the moon as though it wanted to eat the whole world, drawing it in, turning it inside out, and leaving it as just a tiny smear of green and gold, pressed into the endless blackness like an insect rubbed open on soft pitch.
Carefully, I stepped up onto the first rock. The sounds of the garden faded, the sway of trees, the chattering of bats, the song of a nightingale. Everything fell away. I could hear my own breathing and the sound of my heart beating in my ears. I smelt the damp earth, felt the dew prickling my skin and sensed the warmth of rabbits tucked under the ground. It was as though reality were pushing back against the void. Marshalling its armies.
The first rock was firm, though slippery with moss, and I stepped up to the next one and the next. The pit yawned to my left. Air streamed past me, thrumming like a battle hymn, winds like armies of folly flinging themselves joyfully, wave after wave against an impossible foe.
The ragged hole in the side of the tower was almost in reach now. I could see the faces of Llandred and Esten, their arms reaching out to me. I could hear Fen on the battlements above, hooting animal noises out over the dark trees. I climbed a little further, and as I did so, he heard Fen cry out.
"Be careful!"
I felt the stone wobble beneath me, and my foot slipped a little on the wet rock. Desperately, I flailed my arms for balance, then sank down gripping onto the stone and clinging to it, arms and legs wide, trying to hold it with my knees, my feet, forcing my toes into small crevices, flattening myself to the rock, as though it were a capsized boat in an ocean of sharks, fearing every endless second that it would roll and tip me off.
Fen was yelling something at me, but I couldn’t hear her words, just a shrill, streaming crescendo of sound being dragged down, down, always and forever falling between the worlds, beyond hope and rescue.
The stone overhung the pit, and in my mind’s eye, I felt the good earth letting go its grip, like a gum releasing a rotten tooth.
Then I heard Llandred's voice.
"Blink your eyes," Llandred said. His voice was warm and round and real. "Can you do that? Just blink."
I squeezed my eyes shut, then open again.
"Good, It’s alright, you’ve frozen, that’s all. You’re almost there. You need to unfreeze yourself. Blink your eyes if you understand me."
I blinked frantically. The world swam around me. Up was down, I felt as though I were already falling, up and up and down and forever until there was no right way to go.
"OK, now you’re going to move one finger, just one, the little one. You can move one finger, right? It’s nothing, just a finger, you don’t even need it for holding on. Just one tiny little finger."
I tried and found that I could. My nail scratched against the rock. I dug a little hole in the moss, so close to my face.
"Good, very good, now you’re still holding on, but you’re just going to squeeze your hand. Don’t let go, just undo your grip a little, then squeeze a little harder. You know how to milk a cow, right? Of course you do, you’re a peasant. Like that, on the rock, good, now the other hand."
I felt my body start to unlock, the little movements led to bigger ones. As though I was building myself a little tower of courage, each movement adding another stone.
"Good, now your knees, push with them, like you're learning to walk, just your knees, shuffle yourself along. Knees, then hands. You can almost reach me see?"
I pushed with my knees together, and shuffled forwards, like a worm, over the stone. I felt Llandred's warm hand on my shoulder and forced myself to lift my own hand to reach it. Llandred’s long fingers enfolded my wrist. The world stopped spinning, and I let myself be drawn up and over the stone, not caring that it scraped my knees, not caring that my trousers tore, and I bled, and then I was sliding through the ragged hole in the tower, and Fen was there, holding me and smoothing my hair.
Llandred, tall and regal, stooped and rested his hand on my shoulder, and I knew, suddenly, beyond all doubt, that I would follow this boy into battle, I would follow him anywhere, and that I was his, always and forever, for the rest of my life.