The Truth of Things Unseen

Forever Lost

Esten lay on his palette in the Rook, hands behind his head, inspecting the ceiling. The wood was black and intricately carved. The beams interlocked in a complex pattern that held together without nails. He shifted his head slightly and, in his mind, the beams formed a new pattern. A different kind of sense.

Pattern was everywhere. In the stones in the wall, in the ripple of grey dust in the air as it rose when he sat down, in the folds of the cloth in his shirt sleeve, and if you lined the patterns up, they combined to make bigger patterns that were too complicated to fit in his mind all at once, so that it hurt to look at them or think about them.

The others didn’t see them. He had tried to talk to Fen about the patterns once, and she had looked at him strangely and talked about swords instead, and so he kept the patterns to himself.

There were patterns outside, too. Great twisting shapes that spanned trees and the ages, but he could never stare at them like this. He was a coward. The open sky terrified him. It made his chest fill up with a kind of itchy hotness, like an itchy animal was trapped in there, trying to get out. His head felt as though it were tumbling on his neck.

He looked up at the ceiling again, and locked eyes with Taliette.

She was lying on a beam, twenty feet above his head. Her honey-coloured hair hung straight down into empty space. Her face peered over the edge. She was grinning.

He sat up hurriedly. "What are you doing up there?"

She didn’t reply, just watched him, grinning like she’d done something clever.

"How did you get in? The door’s locked?"

She stood up on the beam and walked along it, arms outstretched.

"You’ll fall," he said, but she didn’t. She reached the end of the beam, then used the carvings on the wall to clamber down. She jumped the last few feet and stood there, knees bent, breathing.

Her face was shining. Not an Aden light, but a human glow, built out of exertion and excitement.

"How did you get in here?" he asked again. "I didn’t see you come in. Did you come in the window?" But the window was high and nowhere near the beam on which she had rested, and besides, surely he would have seen her.

She pressed one finger to her lips. Hush.

"There are things you don’t know about me Esten, or about yourself."

They were quite alone in the Rook. The sun shone down through the high windows and cast lights onto her face. He suddenly felt afraid.

"What do you mean? What things?"

"There was a battle here once," she continued. "A thousand years ago, before the Ways were shut. This was where Layonidel and Kenderlin fought your people at Caer Llandrell wasn’t it? Thousands of men died right here. Funny to think of it. It's so peaceful here now. I sometimes think about the bodies down there. All those dead hands, gripping the tree roots, trying to climb out, but they can’t get out, they just clamber around and around in the roots forever. That's what a crawler is, you know? When a lot of people die with magic, so the souls can never really leave."

She was watching him without blinking, as a cat watches a mouse. He suddenly felt very alone.

"There’s no such thing as crawlers. Mother said."

"Oh, did she? I saw one once. A man was digging my father’s field. He found a nest of bones all tangled like they’d been fighting each other underground. He burned them, and they screamed like animals."

"It’s a lie. I'll tell Mother."

"Tell her what? That you were frightened by a girl?"

"I'm not afraid."

He waited, watching her to see what she would do. Telling Mother would mean going outside. The thought of it made his heart press against the inside of his chest.

"Do you want to know how I got in?"

He nodded.

"There’s magic here that you people don’t know about."

"That’s impossible. We know all of the magic. You’re just a Mercian. What would you know about magic?"

She took a step towards him. He shivered without meaning to.

"Layonidel knew," she said. "That’s how she was able to beat your people with all your armour and monsters. All that magic is still here, and only I can see it, but when I look at you, I get the feeling that you see a little bit of it, too. There’s something hidden in your eyes, like there’s a cloud there. I think that’s why you’re afraid, because your eyes see it, but your mind won’t let you."

"I told you, I’m not afraid."

"Then prove it. Open the door."

Esten didn't move. It was as though he were paralysed. He could not will himself to do it.

"Your father is ashamed of you, you know? Who wants a coward for a son?"

Esten felt like he had been slapped. "That’s a lie. You don’t know my father." In his heart, he didn’t know if it was a lie or not.

Taliette smiled, showing perfect pearly teeth.

"I’m sorry. Sometimes, things just need to be said. I don’t mean to hurt you, but there’s no use pretending."

She moved again, and a beam of light caught in her honey-brown hair, lighting it up, turning her eyes to gold.

"I can help you, you know. I can help you learn to not be afraid any more. If I show you the magic, you’ll understand it, and then you won’t have to fear it ever again. Would you like that? For your father? He's coming back soon, isn't he?"

Esten clenched his jaw, then nodded.

"Good, come with me then."

She held out her hand to him. Esten forced himself to stand and walk to her. The hand was cool and strong. The arm, long and slender.

"I'm sorry I scared you. I was just testing you. Walk with me. I'm going to show you something, and then you won't be afraid ever again."

She held his hand tight, and together they walked to the door. She turned the key for him and threw it wide. Outside, the morning was green and golden. Sparks of light swirled in the still air. He felt the familiar tightening in his chest, the nameless scrabbling sensation, but she was by his side.

"It’s alright," she whispered. "You’re right to be afraid. There are things out there that can hurt you, even in this garden. You can’t see them, but I can. Don’t worry. I’ll guide you."

They walked together through the long grass and weeds. The flowers were wet with dew, and the bees drifted from one to the next, legs fat with pollen.

He held back a little as they approached the gate. He struggled involuntarily, but she held him firm.

"Don't fight Esten. You can't master your fear from inside the garden. You have to go through the gate. I used to be afraid once, but then someone showed me how I could be truly free to do anything."

"Really? Who? who showed you?"

"A man called Walder Gintas. He knows your father, you know."

"Will you stay with me?"

"Of course, I'll stay with you. I'll stay right by your side."

He pressed his hand to the gate and felt it change to wood beneath his touch. He turned the latch, and the door swung wide.

Outside, the Mercian forest grew wild. The trees tossed their heads around in the breeze, long snarled limbs, hairy with lichen, twigs hanging in bunches like fingers.

"Shouldn't we shut the gate?"

"Then how would we get back in, silly?"

She flashed another smile at him. He liked her smiling at him. He wanted to please her to make her do it again.

"What’s it like being an Aden?" She asked him. "Having to hide all the time?"

"Mother says we'll go to Erin one day, when Grandfather is dead and he stops looking for us. Mother says the cities there have great white towers. She says it’s never cold there, and that everyone is always happy. I wish we lived there now."

"You might get your chance one day. Things will be better for you."

She squeezed his hand. For the first time, Esten noticed the bow slung across her back.

"Why do you need that? Are we going hunting?"

"I always carry my bow."

"You only have one arrow."

"I left the rest in the garden. I only need one. I don't miss."

The two walked together in silence. The patterns in the Mercian woodland were tangled and wild. He did feel a little less scared. Taliette was so matter-of-fact about it all. She had understood something about him, and it was as though being understood had somehow taken away a little piece of the horror.

"Can you show me now, please?"

She hesitated a fraction of a second, as though she were listening to some other voice. "Not yet," she said. "Just a little further."

Suddenly, the trees opened up, and they stepped out onto a sunken road. The boughs arched overhead like a church.

"Is this the Telbridge road?" asked Esten.

"Yes, but you don’t need to worry. No one ever comes this way.

"Can you show me now, please?"

She beckoned to him. "Hush, there’s one over there."

"One of what?"

"Hush."

She was pointing at the base of a tree a dozen yards from the road.

"I don't see anything," he said, but some secret part of him knew otherwise.

"You have to look for what isn’t there."

She was watching him expectantly now. Not wanting to disappoint her, he stared more intently. She was silent, one hand resting on his shoulder. Perhaps there was something? He couldn’t tell.

"Don't look hard. Just open your eyes," she said. "It’s easy. Most people can’t see, but when you get the knack, you start to get a feeling for who else might be able to learn. Gintas taught me how to see them. Now I'll show you."

There was Pattern in the tree. The branches flowed down into the trunk, a swelling and a tangle of roots. Insects trucking up and down, but there was something wrong. The Pattern was not complete.

"It’s like there’s a missing piece. Like something’s been taken out."

"Good. What should be there?"

"A bit of root, and one of those swollen bits with twigs sticking out of them. It’s all missing. Why did I not notice that before?"

"There are more, look," she said, pointing at a rock. She was right. Now he had seen one, he couldn’t stop seeing them. Was this what he had been seeing all along, but his mind had somehow filled in the blanks?

"What are they?" He asked.

"They’re mouseholes," she said. "People made them a long time ago. I think Layonidel’s men made these when they attacked Caer Llandrell. They were for hiding and sneaking. It let them move around and avoid the armoured witches. They could even go inside the castle. They could pop up anywhere."

"And there are more of these in the Ring?"

"Oh, lots more. But you have to be careful, they’re very old and lots of them aren’t safe."

"Not safe, how?"

"Well, if you go in, then you come out somewhere else, but the land shifts as it gets older. Maybe they come out at the top of a tower, but the tower isn’t there anymore, so you come out and you fall. Maybe you come out under the ground or in the rock, or maybe you never come out at all. You just go around and around forever. Can you imagine that? Crawling around and around in the dark, never dying, never getting old? You have to send an animal in first, like a coloured bee or a mouse with a ribbon on its tail, to check there’s a way out. If you find the bee again, you know there’s an exit somewhere."

"But this is terrible," said Esten, flushed. "These are all over the Ring? We have to cover them before someone falls in!"

"Oh, you don’t have to worry. You can’t fall in them unless you can see them. Your mind just sort of makes you walk around them. You don’t even notice."

"But I see them now."

"Yes. Yes, you do. Do you feel better?"

Hoofbeats sounded around the bend. Taliette unslung her recurve and fitted her arrow.

Esten jumped to his feet. "We have to get off the road!"

"Don't worry, I'll keep you safe. Don't you trust me? This is what I really brought you out here for. It's a special surprise."

The horse was almost at the bend now. The hooves pounded the stony ground. Taliette stepped back off into the shadows and drew her bow, both eyes open, waiting for it to come into view. She blended into the dappled shade like an animal.

Esten cowered into the forest, wishing he could disappear. He wished he had a cloak to hide his brightness. Taliette would protect him if the rider saw him. She had said she wanted to show him something.

The horse rounded the bend at full gallop, a great black mare, lathered and panting. The rider was a tall man with broad shoulders and a pair of lenses on his nose.

"Father!"

Seeing Esten, Mack reigned in his horse. "Esten. What are you doing out here? Come with me quickly. There are men on the road!"

The bow twanged. The arrow followed a perfect flat trajectory and struck the man in the chest. A hard thud of metal on bone. The tip emerged from his back, and blood splattered the leaves. Taliette stepped onto the road, waving her arms and shouting. The frightened mare reared up, wheeling around, and the man fell backwards onto the cobbles.

"Father!" yelled Esten, running.

Mack was struggling to rise, trying to draw his sword, but his arm wasn't working properly and Taliette was so fast. She knelt over him, she had something heavy in her small fist, and struck him, once, twice and then again in the face. He went back down on his fist, half stunned, propped up on the arrow. She kicked him and he rolled on his back. Then she gripped the arrow shaft and, in one smooth movement, ripped it back out. The barbed bodkin did its work. Blood gushed in a fountain from the chest, splashing her face, her clothes, her smile.

Esten leapt onto her, but she moved in some complex way, out to the side, the arms pulling him down, sprawling on the stones. She knelt over him, straddling him.

"Oh Esten, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. You never did anyone any harm did you, but the trouble is you’re just not any use for anything, so you’ve got to go."

She held him down, face first in the mud and struck him, once, twice, again, again, again. It was all so matter-of-fact, a businesslike beating. Her face betrayed no emotion, it was just something to be gone through. Her leather bound fist smacked into the side of his head, over and over like a hard little hammer. His vision blurred at the edges. His legs became soft. She was still talking but he couldn’t hear her. She gripped him tight around the chest, lifted him off the ground, and hissed right in his ear.

"Your brother will be a King, your mother is a Princess, your sister is, well she’s Fen isn’t she, but what are you? No one really cares, do they?"

He struggled as she dragged him to the base of the tree, where the mousehole hummed quietly.

"We have a problem, you see?" she whispered, "but I think it’s something we can work through. I need to get rid of you somehow, but it needs to be a proper disposal. I can’t just leave a dead Aden lying around, can I? Maybe I could dig a deep hole, but you know, I really can’t be bothered. You’re a clever boy, you tell me. What would you do?"

She forced his face towards the mousehole. He gripped the edge of it and pushed back, but there was no strength in his arms.

"Remember what I said about mouseholes?" she said. "Some of them don’t have exits, so you put a cat or a bird in there and watch to see if it comes out again. I've put three little birds in this one and never saw any of them again."

He twisted his head, trying to move away from the mouth of it as she forced him forward.

"I don’t know how long you’ll crawl before you reach the end of this, but I get the feeling when you get there, you’re going to find a whole lot of little animals there waiting for you, all crowded together. Sounds like a perfect fairytale ending to me."

He could feel the coldness of it and hear the soft humming that came up out of it. His finger pressed into the blackness and became stuck. He wrenched it free.

"Please don’t." He managed to say.

"Oh Esten, what was that? It sounded like you were begging for mercy."

She pushed him forward again. His cheek was inches from the inky, no-space surface. There was something horrible about it. It was broken. The world was rotting around it. Woodlice tumbled from the trunk above it and tangled in his hair.

"Please."

"I’m sorry Esten. This isn’t about you and me. I have a job to do, you see, and you don’t fit the pattern." She laughed suddenly. "You know it’s funny. I had a conversation with your brother recently. It turned out he had never seen the darkness. I’m guessing you’ve never seen the darkness either. Interesting how there’s always a bright side if you look for it."

Then she gave him a final shove. His head slipped inside, and all was quiet.