The Witches of Eileanan (11 page)

"Quietly, now. Try no' to leave a trail. Remember the Mesmerd," and Meghan lead them through the night, Jesyah the raven flying ahead on midnight wings. By the time they finally stopped to rest, Isabeau was virtually sleepwalking. She huddled into her plaid and was asleep in a moment, but she slept badly, becoming more and more restless. She woke with a jerk and the conviction that something had happened. It was pitch-black, though overhead the comet slowly passed, huge and red, a long trail blooming behind it. Both Jorge and Meghan were on their feet, staring at the comet. Birds screeched everywhere in the forest, and somewhere a snow lion was roaring.

Dark shapes flew around the jagged peak of Dragon-claw, and the resonating bugle of their call made Isabeau's blood run cold. Dragons!

"What's happened?" she asked.

"I do no' ken," Meghan replied.

"A great act o' magic," Jorge said. "Something strange and magnificent. Someone has mastered the comet magic. Comets are no' lightly bridled." He shivered. "I am frightened, Meghan."

"So am I." They stood and watched the comet for a long while, until the flowing tail at last faded and the comet sank. "Today was the eighth day," Meghan said. "Come, Isabeau, we must speak."

She wrapped her ward back up in her blanket and sat beside her, clutching her own plaid tightly around her. "Today is your birthday, Isabeau. Ye were a few weeks auld when I found ye, wrapped in a torn cloth and placed in the roots o' my tree, where I could no' help but fall over ye. Ye had the dragoneye ring in your fist, and around your neck, a tablet o' ivory with your astrological details. This tablet I will keep, for such precise knowledge o' your place and hour o' birth can be dangerous." She paused for a moment.

"Isabeau, this is your birth-hour and this is your birthplace now."

At Isabeau's expression she chuckled a little, and said, "Really, I do mean it that way as well, for ye are now reborn a witch, no longer Isabeau the Foundling, but Isabeau the Apprentice Witch. But I mean that this hour—midnight on the eighth day o' the comet—is when ye were born, sixteen years ago. Ye were born here too, if no' quite on this precise spot. Your astrological tablet says quite clearly ye were born at Dragonclaw."

"So I wasna brought here, I was actually born here?" That demolished Isabeau's theory of a wicked uncle.

"According to the tablet," Meghan replied. She paused, her face bent. "Ye were given to me partly because o' who I am, but mainly, I would say, because I was the closest person. No one bides in these mountains, they're considered too dangerous. I have no doubt that our valley was discovered today by mischance. The Guards were here to hunt dragons, and were lead to us by that pretty trick Seychella showed ye the other day, and by the other various demonstrations o' power that we've been throwing around. You see, Isabeau, you must no' play with weather until ye understand a wee more about it. Although that storm ye conjured up yesterday may well have saved all our lives, it was certainly luck rather than good management."

Isabeau gaped. Meghan smiled at her expression but nodded. "Aye, ye certainly brought that one up, lassie. Ye are the only one with enough power who'd be silly enough to do it." Isabeau still gaped. Meghan explained a little gruffly. "Yesterday was your sixteenth birthday. Ye ken what a key day that is for a witch, particularly ye who was born at the time o' the comet. Which is what I'm trying to explain to ye. The comet is brimful o' magic; to be born at the zenith o' its power is a very strong sign. That was why I ken ye could manage the Sorceress Test o' Fire, for I had always suspected fire would be your element. The thing is, your power is a sign I canna ignore. There is a battle going on here, Beau, and I suspect ye are going to be one o' our hidden weapons. Ye have to take on a charge for me." She paused and looked at her ward, but Isabeau was still gaping. "Listen, please. I want ye to take something to a friend o' mine. This is very important. Matters are coming to a head in Eileanan, and the whole future o' the country and the Coven may depend on ye seeing this charge safely through."

"A quest?" Isabeau breathed.

"Aye, a quest, if ye like. Listen to me carefully, we haven't much time and I have a lot to say. Ye must go to the Rìgh's palace—the new palace, by the sea. Ye must give this to my friend, Latifa. She will know what to do." Meghan pulled a soft black pouch out of her pocket and opened it slightly to show a magic talisman nestled inside. Fitting easily inside Isabeau's hand, it was shaped like a tilted triangle, each of the three sides about half an inch wide and inscribed with magical symbols.

"Where do I have to go? I do no' even ken where the palace is!"

"You'll find it. First ye must get out o' the highlands, and believe me that's enough to worry about at this stage," Meghan said. "The land is wild, Beau, and this time I will no' be there to watch over ye. Ye must be careful. Remember the news Seychella brought—some o' the magical creatures are growing restless and hatred o' humans runs high ever syne the Fairy Decree. Then the forests themselves can be dangerous; there are rivers and waterfalls and cliffs, wolves, snow lions and woolly bears too, Isabeau. Do no' rely on talking your way out o' problems either. Woolly bears are no' the brightest o' creatures and will no' wait for ye to say hello."

"I've lived in the forests all my life," Isabeau said indignantly. "I ken about wolves and woolly bears."

"Aye, but ye do no' understand. I've lived here for many years. The creatures o' these hills ken me, and ye are under my protection. When ye leave ye leave my protection."

Isabeau was a little sobered, both by the unknown before her and by the knowledge the valley was magically protected and she had never known. Those scary nights stumbling home after playing truant, imagining snow lions lurking behind bushes, saber-leopards behind rocks, the shadows of dragons passing over the moons! She need not have worried.

"More dangerous, though, are the people ye will meet," Meghan continued, leaning forward. Her eyes were black and piercing in her wrinkled face. "Isabeau, ye must learn to listen, no' speak; to watch, no' seek the center o' attention. Ye have received the moonstone and the dragoneye. Hide them with the talisman in this black pouch, do no' wear them. They will reveal ye as a witch to those who ken and, Isabeau, ye do no' want to be discovered. Maya's servants are strong, ye could no' fight them. Ye are only a fledgling witch, ye ken nothing! Do no' let your arrogant youth mislead ye. The ways o' the One Power are very strange and very difficult. Do no' force your learning and do no' overestimate it. Hide yourself in mediocrity."

"But—"

"Ye are no' close to being ready to wear your sorceress ring, Isabeau," Meghan said gently. "Ye understand the magic instinctively; ye need to understand it with your mind as well. Ye need to study much harder. One does no' win a Sorceress ring so easily. Ye have much to learn and many more trials to undergo."

"But I whizzed through most o' the Trials. It was only the spirit. . ." She fell silent.

"Ye were crackling with the power o' the comet, Isabeau. It was your sixteenth birthday, a very significant date. And it was only my training that got ye through the earth Trials."

"But they were easy . . ."

"Only because I taught ye. Earth is my medium, I would ken if ye were strong in it. Ye ken nothing o' the deeper secrets o' the earth and how to harness them, and I wish I had time to teach ye. Already we have started, though ye would no' listen to the silence as I bade ye. Ye canna ken the earth until ye hear her song and her daily grumbles, but ye would always chatter, despite what I said."

"I did no' ken!" Isabeau protested, startled. "Ye never said it was a lesson."

"I always said 'listen,' but ye were never good at listening," Meghan sighed, half mocking, half serious. "I hope ye have been listening tonight, Isabeau, for it may be a while afore I see ye again. The Spinners are spinning their wheel and weaving cloth o' our lives, and who kens when our threads will next cross."

"Why? Where are ye going? Why canna ye come with me?"

"In normal times I would," Meghan replied seriously.

"No matter how much I'd rather stay here in the peace o' Dragonclaw's shadow or go traveling with ye down to the sea. But I canna. I too must venture out. It is too hard to see the pattern tucked away in this wee valley. I must go and gather news and meet auld friends—the future o' all that we ken and care about may be in the balance."

"So how do I find the palace? What do I do when I get there?"

"Ye must head down through the southern pass, and travel roughly south and east through the forests and valleys till ye leave the highlands. Try and avoid the villages there, the people are surly and suspicious and may remember ye visiting with me. If all portents are true, now is no' the time to be remembered as the companion to a witch."

"But no one ever ken ye were a witch," Isabeau protested, remembering the disguises they had adopted.

"Och, some ken. With some it does no' matter; there are still witch-friends in Rionnagan. But it is better no one knows. No one must suspect ye."

"Is that only for my own safety or will it affect some plan o' yours if I'm discovered to be a witch?" An undefined disappointment filled Isabeau and made her voice sulky.

"Ye are no' a witch yet, my bairn," Meghan responded coldly. "An apprentice, merely. But ye are right, it will no' give the Coven any joy to have one o' its apprentices caught and tried, particularly one that knows the hiding place o' Meghan o' the Beasts. It would make Maya very happy to squeeze that information out o' ye!"

Isabeau was frightened. "Who are ye?" she whispered.

"I am who I am, Isabeau. The same person you've always known. Meghan o' the Beasts, wood witch, Keybearer o' the Coven."

"But I dinna ken . .."

"There are many things ye do no' ken about me, Isabeau. My nature and character do no' depend upon your knowledge for their existence. Ye had plenty o' opportunity for observance."

Isabeau did not know what to say. How could Meghan be the leader of the Coven of Witches, the most powerful witch in the land since Tabithas the Wolf-Runner had been exiled?

Meghan read her thoughts. "I was the Keybearer for many a long year; far too many. It has always been the custom to hold the position unto death, but what is one to do when your body refuses to die? So I retired, found this valley and the tree, and went back to the Tower more and more rarely. I was proud indeed when Tabithas was asked to become Keybearer. She held the Key only a short time, the poor lassie. When the soldiers came and the Tower was burning, she gave the Key into my hand and told me to guard it well. So here I am again, carrying a burden I thought I was free of, while Tabithas the Wolf-Runner is dead or banished. I ken no' where. But enough o' all this talk. All ye need to ken is that I am again the Keybearer, leader o' the Coven and the Thirteen Towers, and ye are an apprentice witch and must do my bidding."

"Once past Caeryla, ye must catch the ferry across Tuathan Loch to Dùnceleste, then head north again until ye reach the edge o' the forest. Ye canna mistake it—it's an ancient forest and none o' the local people will go near it for it is thought to be haunted. A friend o' mine will be there to meet ye and guide ye through to Tulachna Celeste, a high green hill with standing stones in a ring. Do no' be afraid, my friend will look after ye. It is safe there, it is one o' the last places o' safety. It is a magical place, though, Isabeau. Be careful."

"I do no' understand . .." Isabeau faltered.

"Tulachna Celeste was built by the Celestine, Isabeau, built by magical creatures from magic stone and bound about with spells so difficult they have never been unwound. Even Maya, with all her powers, could no' break down Tulachna Celeste."

"Ye keep talking about the Banrìgh as if she was some great sorceress . . ."

"Listen to me carefully, Isabeau. Maya is the strongest and most subtle Talent in the land. Only a very powerful sorceress can have done what she did on the Day o' Betrayal. But she is tainted with the corruption o' magic—she loves the Power for its own sake. She uses it for her own ends, she uses it t' hurt and harm. This is against the Witches' Creed, which ye swore to uphold tonight. Ye break your oaths, ye are in danger o' becoming another Maya—cruel, tyrannical, hated," Meghan waited until she was sure her apprentice had understood what she was saying. "Stay in Tulachna Celeste, Isabeau, till my friend Cloudshadow says it is safe to leave again. Put yourself in her hands. I do no' want ye traveling through Rionnagan by yourself. There are bandits and outlaws everywhere, and the way is tortuous. She will no' be able to go with ye, but she will find ye the safest way down to the blue palace, or find someone to go with ye."

After a moment, Isabeau nodded. Rebelliously she wanted to protest her ability to get herself anywhere, but only a moment's reflection made her feel this might be a good time to practice listening, not speaking.

"Follow the Rhyllster for now. Stay out o' the villages if you can. Strangers are long remembered among these lonely hills. When ye get to the base o' the hills, then start worrying about crossing the river. Do no' use the ferries once you've passed Dùnceleste—the ferrymen are paid well to report any suspicious strangers to Maya. Once across the river do no' follow it, syne it winds about like a sleepy snake. Head due east, toward the sea. It'll take ye a long time to reach the palace; ye should be there afore May Day, though."