Chapter 74: Reunion

Interlude part 2

Fox left the warmth of the afternoon sun and made his way past the plain-looking doorway.

Cautious and quiet at first - especially after what he’d witnessed in the sky earlier - he descended into the bowels of the rock that bore the weight of the rambling towers above, and found himself in a place where the cold and dark were one, and convoluted passageways conspired against him at each turn.

The deep moans created by the constant buffeting of the sea below boomed and ebbed before fading to nothing in the depths. For one brief moment, he thought he could hear the call of seagulls, but shook his head and put it to the back of his mind. What confused him more were the strange sounds that came and went - like creaking footsteps on a wooden floor. They echoed down the stone hall, sometimes in front, and sometimes - more disturbingly - from behind.

He’d passed through the ruins of the great kitchen with its expansive areas and its nooks and vast fireplaces. Pots and pans lay scattered amongst the mess of the cutlery-strewn floors - it was the same everywhere they looked; almost as if there had been a great struggle, or the people who had lived there had left in a hurry. He’d managed to fashion a torch out of old rags and oil, which he put to good use, not least to assuage any doubts he still harboured that the place might still be inhabited.

The further he descended, the hotter it became, until eventually - after many twists and turns - he emerged into a large circular room, in the middle of which was something that resembled a well. It was made of bricks, but gave off a red glow that was visible between the mortar.

‘I remember this place,’ mumbled the sword, pensively. ‘This was the last place I was actually me.’

Fox made his way over to the well and peered down into it - staring down through the haze of steam into the incandescent crimson glow below, but the heat was almost too much to bear, and he turned his head away.

‘Be careful,’ warned the sword. ‘There are things here that no man should know, much less touch…’

Fox choked and wafted away some smoke. ‘There’s an awful lot of heat coming from this.’ He coughed and squinted down into the well again. ‘Good grief, there’s lava down there! I wonder what it’s used for?’

‘It’s called Althanor’s furnace.’

‘Who?‘ said Fox, wiping his stinging eyes.

‘Not who - what. It’s the name for an alchemical furnace. It was used for a lot of magical work down here - which I found out to my cost. Not least on this sword.’

Fox was half-listening. He didn’t know much about alchemy, but he nodded nonetheless.

‘How long did you say this place has been abandoned again?’ he said.

The sword thought for a moment.

‘It must be over a thousand years.’ it replied.

Fox peeped over the bricks again and looked down.

‘And this furnace has kept going?’

The sword tugged at Fox’s hand, urging him back.

‘Nevermind that for now.’ it said.

‘Why?’

‘Because,‘ said the sword, ‘what you’re looking for is over there by the table.’

Fox glanced over to the table by the furnace. Something glinted at him in the dark and he squinted and looked again. Sure enough, there it was again - a tiny flash of light, like a reflection on a shiny surface. His heart missed a beat.

‘The stone!’ cried Fox. ‘Could it be?’

His heart leapt for joy and he lurched forward towards the table with his hands out. He could hardly contain his excitement as he clambered over centuries-old rubble and debris. After all the time spent searching, his quest was nearing an end. All he could do was think about home once more.

And then he noticed the body by the table.

Or at least it looked like a body - all curled up on the floor almost out of sight. Fox slowed to a halt and then edged around the table to get a better look. With horror he realised that the body was not alone, and that nearby was another, and another. Their faces were contorted in the most gruesome manner as if each one had suffered some terrible fate.

‘Dear god.’ he managed, weakly.

He tried to turn one of the bodies over with his foot. It moved easily, but at the same time felt stiff like some dried-out husk. Hollow eye sockets stared vacantly at the wyrdstone, which sat innocently on the tabletop waiting for him to pick it up.

Who were these people, and how did they come to be here in the first place? Especially down here, in the dark warmth of the alchemist’s forge. Was it significant that they lied so close to the stone? Were the two connected in some way? There was no way of knowing, and yet, he had an inkling in his mind as he cast his mind back to the old witch and her talk of the ‘others’ that had emerged in her basement just like him.

‘So this is what happened to them.’ he muttered. ‘These people were searching for the stone. The same one that I was searching for.’

‘So it would seem,’ sighed the sword.

Fox reached out with his hand towards the wyrdstone and then stopped.

‘You don’t think - ‘

‘What?’

‘You don’t think that it’s a trick do you? I mean, there could be a snare or trap somewhere.’

‘Unlikely.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘It doesn’t need to be booby-trapped.’

‘But it’s only a stone.’

‘Nonsense! Just look what it did to me.’

‘You touched it. But it didn’t kill you did it?’

‘No, and I don’t know why. But it very nearly did though. An urge came over me and I couldn’t help myself. I found myself reaching for it and then it happened - I was trapped in the sword. Whatever you do don’t touch it. Wrap it in a rag or something first.’

Fox took the sleeve of his shirt and tore a long strip off, and began to carefully wrap the wyrdstone in it, taking the greatest care not to touch it. When he’d finished - with trembling hands - he took the wyrdstone and placed it reverently into his bag before fastening it tightly.

‘Right, let’s get out of here…’ he said, slinging the bag over his shoulder and turning back to the entrance.

‘You read my mind.’ said the sword with relief.

They both left the room, and the crimson glow from the furnace gradually dimmed until there was nothing left but the dark and the cold once more.

* * * *

On the way back to the surface they become lost several times, taking the wrong directions down tunnels that looked familiar and yet weren’t, or fumbling around blindly in the dark as their torch spluttered and died finally. They retraced their steps many times, but each time couldn’t quite remember the way back entirely.

After an hour or so, the sword wriggled suddenly in Fox’s hand and he looked down to feel it lurch in his grip.

‘What?’ said Fox through gritted teeth. ‘I’m getting impatient now. You’re meant to know your way around here aren’t you?’

‘Shut up.’ hissed the sword. ‘I can hear footsteps behind us!’

Fox promptly collapsed into the dark recess of an alcove and sat tight with his back to the wall, feeling himself flush hot and cold with sweat and anticipation. He waited there for what seemed an eternity, although in reality it couldn’t have been no more than thirty seconds.

And then something shuffled past in the dark, and he flinched uncontrollably.

He cursed himself for almost letting loose a shriek. What the hell could be down here with him, he thought - the undead? The thought was almost too much to bear. He raised his sword, and crept after the shadow as quietly as he could, ready to cut it down where it stood.

But something didn’t ring quite true - whatever it was in front of him wasn’t some mindless shambling creature. If it turned out to be a shade, though, he was damn well going to make sure of it first.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ whispered the sword, under protest. ‘Kill it! Kill it now before it kills us!’

‘Who are you?’ declared Fox, in his most authoritarian voice, directing the words to the dark figure in front of him.

He was still not totally sure what his eyes were trying to tell him, but he wasn’t totally prepared to surrender to his intuition just yet. He felt out of his depths in the dark and just wished that the torch was still working.

He brought the sword around defensively in an arc before him in case the thing decided to attack him.

He watched the shape stop walking, and turn slowly to face him.

‘Watch where you’re swinging that thing.’ it said rather testily.

The voice was not what he was expecting. It was familiar. In fact it was rather too familiar.

‘Hillary?‘

There was a crackling sound and something flared as bright as daylight. After a few moments of what seemed to be light of the most intense kind, Fox managed to regain his vision and was more surprised than ever. A youthful-looking Hillary smiled back at him.

‘As a matter of fact, I heard you miles away.’ said Hillary.

Fox let the sword slip from his grip. As it clattered to the cobbled floor, it grunted in complaint.

Ignoring the sword’s whingeing, they grabbed each other by the shoulders and gave each other a welcome shake. In between bouts of blubbing, Fox’s spirit turned from hopelessness and despondency to relief and then laughter. It was as if he’d finally realised that everything would be alright after awakening from a nightmare.

‘Is it really you?’ asked Fox, smiling like a madman, the joy evident in his face. ‘You don’t know how good it is to see you! I thought I’d be here forever!’

‘Who the hell is this person?’ asked Kaliburn, clearly baffled at their familiarity.

‘Please forgive me.’ said Fox, picking Kaliburn up from the floor. ‘This is an old friend.’ Fox clasped a hand over Hillary’s shoulder and looked at him. ‘A friend who hopefully will be taking me back home where I belong.’

‘Oh, you can be sure of that my friend.’ said Hillary, pointing upwards. ‘You won’t believe what I came on.’

‘How far away is home Hillary? You don’t know how much I’ve missed it.’

‘Oh, it’s over the hills and far away my friend,’ said Hillary, slapping Fox on the back. ‘But don’t worry yourself about how far away it is - things are not measured by mere distance here.’

Fox didn’t understand what Hillary meant, but smiled and nodded his head nonetheless.

‘All you need to concern yourself with is the knowledge that Mary and the children are waiting for you back home.’

‘Is she alright?’ asked Fox, his eyes brightening at the mention of her name.

‘She’s fine, but you’re disappearance shook her to the very core. I reassured her as best I could. I told her that I would do my best to find you and bring you back.’

‘I knew you would and I can’t thank you enough.’ sniffed Fox. ‘Being here has affected me in ways I hadn’t even considered. I’ve overcome so much Hillary - things that no man would believe - or bear.’ He looked up with tears welling in his eyes. ‘Right now, I just want to go home.’ he said. As he blinked tears ran down his cheeks.

Hillary shook his head. ‘Come now. All that concerns us now is getting you back home.’

‘Yes, let’s get out of this godforsaken place.’ agreed Fox. And then something occured to him and he paused. ‘But first, tell me, how did you know where to find me?’

‘Ah, that - my friend - is down to this little item.’

Hillary reached into his pocket and produced something resembling a gold pocket watch. Fox frowned as he took it from him and examined it delicately.

‘What is it?’ he said.

‘An enchanted compass. It contains a lock of your hair, now magically bound to it, given to me by your good wife. Of course it didn’t have to be hair. If I wished it could have been anything that belonged to you, although hair by its very nature would have produced the strongest attraction. And so, once I was here in Faerie, I just followed its directions until I bumped into you, so to speak.’

Fox nodded, and handed it back to Hillary.

‘Clever thing, magic.’ he said.

‘Without question.’ said Hillary, and glanced at the sword in Fox’s hand. ‘And talking of magic - what in heaven’s name do we have here?’

Fox politely handed the sword to Hillary.

‘This is Kaliburn - a talking sword.’

‘That much is evident.’

‘I found him in a tree.’

‘Did you indeed?’

‘As a matter of fact, I was once the property of the king of Talistay.’ said the sword, haughtily. ‘And whose city you have now deigned to enter.’

‘I see.’ said Hillary. ‘How very interesting. Well, you’d better take it back. I have little need of bladed weapons.’ He carefully handed the sword back to Fox. ‘Incidentally though, there is just one question…’

‘Oh? What’s that?’

‘What in Jupiter’s name are you doing in this maze of twisty passages?’

‘Oh,’ smiled Fox, ‘now that is a long story…’

* * * *

Some time later, to Hillary’s disappointment, they were still having difficulty trying to recall the route back. Still, they decided to carry on nonetheless, and as they turned a corner, they found themselves in a draughty room, somewhat bigger than anything they’d been in before - even the kitchens.

‘I think we’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere…’ said Fox, irritably. ‘I honestly can’t remember coming this way at all. What the hell are these?’

Languishing in the mighty hall, steeped in darkness, were row upon row of towering statues, all taller than any man. Except that when he looked again, they weren’t statues at all, rather hulking giants fashioned from iron.

‘I agree…’ he muttered, craning his head upwards.

The light of Hillary’s staff formed a bright circle of light that cast long flickering shadows.

Fox reacted quickly, reaching for his sword.

‘They’re moving!’ he screamed suddenly.

Hillary spun round, muttering a word too fast to be recognised and his staff flared brighter and brighter until it flooded the whole of the hall with artificial light.

‘Calm down!’ cried Hillary and held his arm up to wave away any doubt. ‘It’s nothing - just shadows from the staff.’

He raised the staff to get a better look at the strange hulking giants. Each iron monstrosity stood at least three times the height of a man, and each was an exact duplicate of the one preceding it. He imagined that at any moment one of them would pivot a tiny head to stare down directly at him and he shivered from the thought of it.

‘Just like the guardian at the gate…’ he muttered to himself. ‘I don’t like it here.’ He spun around. ‘What exactly are we doing here anyway?’ he shouted to Fox.

Fox heaved a sigh and put his sword away. ‘I’ll tell you if we ever get out of here.’ he said. He pointed to one end of the cavern. ‘Look, that passageway there branches off into two. Which one shall we take?’

‘Do you know where we’re going?’ asked Hillary.

‘Not entirely.’ answered Fox with a trace of uncertainty.

Hillary shrugged.

‘Then it doesn’t matter then, does it?’ he smiled, and headed for the nearest passageway as quick as he could.

Fox followed him, but was at a loss as to know what to say.

He conceded that Hillary did, indeed, have a point though.

* * * *

After what seemed an eternity in the dark, they eventually emerged into blinding sunlight.

Fox grumbled. ‘About time too.’ he said, brushing the spiders and cobwebs off himself. ‘Any longer in there and I would have probably been driven mad.’

He slumped down through exhaustion on the floor by Hillary’s feet. They couldn’t have been more than two hundred yards from the western gate of the city. He pulled the seeing stone from his pocket and stared at it. The smooth pebble rested there in the palm of his hand. Eventually he held it up to his mouth.

‘Are you there old woman?’ he said.

He waited for a reply, but it didn’t come. Strange, he thought - she’d always seemed to answer before, no matter where he was.

Hillary frowned. ‘Who are you talking to?’ he asked.

‘Just an old woman who I promised something to.’

He rubbed the stone and held it to his mouth once more.

‘Old woman - can you hear me?’

‘Yes, dear, I can hear you loud and clear…’

Fox jumped; the words were not entirely unexpected, but the direction they came from was. He looked at the stone and frowned; the words didn’t come from there, but from somewhere else. He turned his attention to the western gate again and staggered to his feet.

‘Oh my god.’ he said, scrabbling around for his bag and sword.

Cordelia waited at the edge of the western gate dressed in black. Her wolf sisters were there too, flanking her. No doubt there were more of them hiding in the cover of the nearby trees.

‘I have been waiting for you.’ she said. ‘I believe you have something of mine.’

The wolves prowled around, impatiently padding to and fro, flashing wicked smiles and occasionally licking their slavering chops.

‘Give the stone to me Fox.’ she said, holding out a bony hand.

Her words were somehow persuasive, but he refused.

‘First tell me what you’re doing here.’ he stammered. ‘You should be hundreds of miles away.’

‘Yes, I’m sorry about that. I’m afraid we had to play a little trick on you…’

‘But why? I don’t understand.’

‘You wouldn’t understand.’ she said, quickly. ‘After all, you’re just a man. Nothing more.’

On the inside Fox had been reduced to a bag of nerves, but even so, he tried to put on a brave face.

‘Remember what happened the last time we met old woman.’ he warned.

‘Ha!’ she sneered. ‘Oh come on… The last time I let you believe you’d won.’

Fox drew his sword, and was surprised to hear it start to hum. It sounded not unlike a bee hive.

‘You don’t want to mess with me.’ said the sword.

‘Ha! A talking sword?’ said Cordelia. ‘I wonder how you came by that, eh? My, that is interesting.’

‘You are part of the treachery that brought down Talistay!’ cried Kaliburn. ‘You are the witch of Erebor.’

‘Oh, this is just too much.’ she said. ‘Where did you find this relic?’ With a cackle, she held a claw-like hand out. ‘The stone, Fox. Give it to me now. Or you die.’ she said, clearly getting impatient.

Fox stammered nervously.

‘Like the others in that room down there you mean?’ he said pointing behind himself. ‘I saw them. I saw them all. God knows what happened to them before they died.’

Cordelia raised a craggy eyebrow.

‘Really? So… you met your forebears did you?’ she creaked. ‘How does it feel knowing that you succeeded where they failed? You must feel quite special.’ She sounded quite impressed with Fox.

The sword hummed with bright anger.

‘Prepare to meet your maker, witch.’ it said.

Fox looked aghast at Kaliburn, and then back to Cordelia who was gleefully cackling. If he wasn’t careful, the damn sword was going to get him well and truly killed. He didn’t know what to make of the situation, but it sounded bad, so he began to back off until he was standing against the wall.

‘I like your sword,’ she said mirthfully, ‘but like all men - it talks too much.’

Fox said nothing, except to squeeze the handle, as if to order Kaliburn to shut up.

‘Tell me,’ she continued, ‘how did you manage to take the stone when they did not? Is your heart so pure that it shielded you to the danger?’

The wolves grew impatient but stood their ground on the perimeter of the city. He frowned. Why didn’t they come nearer? Why not just attack us. Something just didn’t seem quite right.

‘Come and take it if you can.’ he stammered.

The lead wolf sniffed the air.

‘Look how he shakes.’ it said. ‘I can smell his fear.’

One came alongside and licked its lips.

‘I can almost taste his blood.’

Another lifted its nose and looked on him with disdain.

‘I want to bury my nose in his chest and tear his heart out.’

Cordelia smiled and patted them. ‘There, there. Patience my dears, patience.’ she soothed, sweetly. ‘You shall have your fill of him soon enough.’

Hillary watched Cordelia for a moment and then stepped forward.

‘Old woman,’ he shouted, ‘it seems that my colleague here has laboured under the pretence that you will help him return home.’

‘And who would you be?’ she asked.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that for the time being.’ said Hillary. ‘Who I am is inconsequential.’

Cordelia eyed Hillary suspiciously.

‘Your friend here swore an oath to me which doesn’t concern you.’ she said. ‘If you are wise though, you will back off. It is entirely up to you, but I warn you not to interfere in matters that do not concern you.’

Cordelia turned her attention to Fox and started to mouth words that were laced with command - strange alien-sounding words that took on a life of their own as they sailed through the air unheard and entered his ears.

‘The oath, Fox.’ she began. ‘Have you forgot already?’

Every fibre of Fox’s being tried to resist, but it seemed a useless gesture, and with growing horror, he found himself walking towards her unable to stop. The compulsion was too much to bear.

She looked to her sisters.

‘See, the oath of acceptance is holding strong.’ she gloated. ‘See how easy and weak he is. The fool.’

She watched Hillary, keeping a careful eye on the stranger in case he tried anything unexpected. She didn’t trust him. He didn’t seem genuine enough - seemingly too remote and too distant somehow.

Fox, sensing the hopelessness of his situation, grabbed the seeing stone and screamed into it with all his might. Instantly, Cordelia dropped everything and fell to her knees, clutching her now bleeding ears. Instantly the spell was broken and he could feel the control returning to his legs.

‘Noooo!’ she screamed, pointing at him. ‘Kill him!’

Fox watched as the wolves leapt forward, running at full pelt towards him over the drawbridge. He had to think quick - anything less and he was done for. Fox took his bag and emptied the contents onto the ground. He grabbed at the wyrdstone.

‘You want this?’ he said, holding the stone up for her to see.

Cordelia nodded. ‘The stone!’ she screeched. ‘Give it to me!’

He held the stone over the precipice where it dangled precariously on a thin strip of cotton. Any sudden movement and it would fall into the angry waves hundreds of feet below.

‘No!’ cried Cordelia. ‘Do that and you die…’

‘Then call off your dogs.’

With a wave of her hand, the wolves stopped.

Hillary helped Fox back from the edge.

‘This does not concern you whoever you are.’ she warned, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Fox turned to Hillary. ‘Can you get us out of here?’ he panted.

Hillary looked up at the woman, and then back to Fox.

‘First we need to get into that tower behind us.’ he whispered. ‘And then to the roof.’

‘What are you two scheming?’ cried Cordelia, half-listening. ‘I warned you to keep out of this.’

‘The name ’s Hillary.’ he muttered. ‘Don’t wear it out.’

‘Hillary.’ she smiled. ‘What a lovely name…’

She reached up with a bony hand as if grasping the air, and with one quick gesture pulled it towards her chest.

A sickening grinding sound from above forced Hillary to look up just in time to see a large wall of masonry come toppling down on top of them. He pushed Fox out of the way, and crouched down, to shield himself from the falling rubble. Fox watched in dread as the mass of stone and dust completely buried his friend.

There was an uncomfortable silence before a sense of panic descended on Fox.

‘No!’ he yelled.

He wanted desperately to help unearth his friend, but his legs remained well and truly planted to the ground.

‘Hillary! Can you hear me? Hillary!’

He looked at the bag with the stone in; it was tantalizingly just out of reach on the ground beside him.

‘Hush.’ crooned Cordelia. ‘No one can help you now.’

Wearing a wicked smile, the witch began to walk towards him, her grinning wolf sisters in tow.

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