City Under the Waves - 11. Chapter 11

Celyn, walking behind them was filled with mixed emotions. He was envious of their closeness, whilst recognising that it was a desperate one; fragile in that it could so easily be torn apart at any moment. He wondered what would happen if Marc’s body, in its hospital bed, should fail. What would happen to the Marc that was here? Would he disappear or would he go on? Would he remain here, trapped forever, neither alive nor dead, with no physical body to return to? And if so would Mererid choose to stay with him? Would he? Was that what this was really all about?

Aerfen had already trapped them here once; two children, innocent and heedless. Now the children had grown up and they were coming again. Was this what Aerfen had planned? That they would come here willingly; just as they had before; willingly but with the same innocence and heedlessness of the fate that awaited them? Would they be trapped here forever? How long would it be before their bodies died? Would they know? Would they feel it here; the moment they died?

“It serves nothing to allow your thoughts to follow those paths. They are dangerous.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

“It was written all over your face. These are uncertain times. Yes, it may be that we will fail and we will fall. That was always a possibility and it will remain until the end. But if we don’t try then we cannot succeed. You may not realise it but a part of you has always been locked away from you. It is here. Whilst it remains imprisoned you will never be whole. And, for me; until I have fulfilled my vow to the king I cannot return to my home and my true lord. We all have something to lose and something to gain, although some more than others.”

“I know. But I don’t think I realised; not until this very moment how… I don’t know, how real it is I suppose. It has been a kind of adventure; exciting; new. When I heard about Marc I was shocked but it kind of didn’t click… that it was part of the same thing. I didn’t think that it could ever happen to me… that there was any risk for me. And now, suddenly… it is not an adventure any more, it is a nightmare, and It’s one I might not wake up from. And it’s more than that.” His eyes were fixed on the backs of the two who walked ahead. “There’s more at stake than ever. I’ve opened myself to something I’ve never had or expected ever to have. I feel that it makes me strong but it...”

Celyn glanced a Gwyon who was smiling sympathetically. “I know it cannot be Gwyon,” he said softly, “but I can’t help it; and it makes me stronger... but it makes me weaker too. I’m afraid of it: I’m afraid of it all – but this... I think I’m scared of the way I feel more than I am afraid of anything else. Its strength frightens me, especially when I know; when I know what might happen. I don’t think I could bear it if he died; not now.”

Gwyon reached out and gripped his shoulder. “It is right that you should be afraid. This is a dangerous venture. Aerfen is a powerful witch and she is cold and heartless. She would think nothing of clicking her fingers and extinguishing the life in any one, or all of us. She cares nothing for any of us, brother and sister though you may be. All she wants is to win; to see us fail. This is nothing more than a game to her. She has nothing to gain from our failure, nothing to lose from our success; nothing but the game.”

“But that is terrible. I had always thought that there was something more at stake; power or wealth; revenge or… something.”

“Don’t underestimate the importance of the game to her. She is a weaver of stories and the ending is the most important part; for whatever the reason. She will fight as hard for a game and for a life or a kingdom. But because it is a game it is all the more difficult to play as there is no rhyme or reason to it when she makes the rules.”

“Are you seriously telling me that she would take Marc’s life; or allow him to die just to win a game? For no other reason than that she can?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“And he… he is; at least part of him is…?”

“Indeed. An interesting paradox isn’t it?”

“I… I can’t understand. I don’t understand how she could hurt him like this... I was going to say her brother but he’s not; he’s herself can’t understand.”

“No, of course you can’t. Aerfen always lived by different rules than everyone else. She was always more of the faery kin than human and they do not have the same view of morality; or reality. She is not evil; not as such: she is just… powerful. And she needs to constantly prove that power and does it by exercising it over others. She craves a reaction and has found that fear and horror are easier reactions to provoke than love and pride; and are less likely to leave you empty when your efforts do not succeed.

“I don’t believe that she is hurting Marc maliciously, just to see him in pain. I believe that she has other; deeper reasons because; in her own twisted way she did love you; all of you. I think that she is using his pain to provoke a reaction from all of you; to manipulate your actions... and that is why he must be careful. Marc is right; we cannot trust him. I have been watching him closely and I have known from the start, although I was too stupid to see it... He has been charged with frustrating our actions; ordered by Her to ensure we don’t succeed. Every time he tries to tell us, or to go against her instructions, she hurts him.”

“What can we do?”

“Nothing. Watch; wait; expect the worst and hope for the best.” Biting back tears Celyn turned away but Gwyon put a hand on his arm. “Don’t give up, lad; not on any of it. Yes, you are brothers but not of the body; only of the soul.” For a moment Celyn stared at him with a wild hope in his eyes but in moments it was crushed. But Gwyon was not quite finished. “The way he looks at you is not as a brother looks at a brother.”

And then he was gone, striding ahead and leaving Celyn stunned. Unable to think of anything to day he remained silent as they walked onwards in the warm sunshine. For a time it appeared that they were getting nowhere; the castle drawing no closer and then they rounded a curve in the road to be met with an astonishing sight.

The road widened and wound between two mountain spurs. High above, the spurs were linked by an impossibly delicate bridge seeming to rest on the very air as it arched across the span glistening like spun sugar or glass. Far beneath the bridge of air the road crossed a wide, deep chasm on a far more substantial bridge.

On the other side, the road became a paved thoroughfare that passed beneath an enormous gateway and into a courtyard. The courtyard was surrounded by towering buildings; all built of crystal with no apparent windows or doors which gave the impression of being inside an enormous ice sculpture. The sunlight, catching every face and form, sparkled and reflected a hundred different colours and hurt their eyes to look at.

Unerringly Marc led the way across the courtyard to a tower tucked away in the corner. It looked neither particularly big nor particularly imposing.

“This is it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“How can you be so sure? How can we trust you to be so sure?”

Marc smiled, a bitter smile. “At last I get through to you about not trusting me… and it is just when I have to ask you to do just that. How do I know? I have no idea. A memory? An intuition? I don’t know. But there is a… fear in me when I look at it and a… pain… a warning. Don’t hesitate too long thinking about it. I am helping you again and every moment I am waiting for the axe to fall.”

“Forgive me, but it is the fact that it has not which causes me to be suspicious.” Celyn narrowed his eyes and regarded him coolly. Mererid was unaccountably anxious and uncomfortable with the look that passed between them. Something turned soft in Marc’s eyes, that puzzled her as did the strange little smile that settled on his lips.

“I can understand that,” he said gently. “Of course I can. But… we are close; I know it. If you think about it you know it too. There is something… all around us, singing in the walls, humming in the air. It… it… I don’t know maybe it shields me; maybe it shields Her; I don’t know but I KNOW this is it. What have you got to lose?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I have to lose which is why I am so afraid, so… suspicious; especially now.” The charged look they were sharing intensified then Mar grinned and shrugged.

“That is wise… but if not here then where?”

Celyn looked around. There was nowhere that called to him any more or any less than here. “Alright. We’ll try here. Why not? Where else is there?”

Marc hesitated, a strange look on his face. “What is it?” Shaking his head he seemed to emerge from a dream.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Celyn put a hand on his arm and would not let him pass. “It isn’t nothing; I saw your face. What is it? Tell me what or I won’t go anywhere with you.”

For a moment Marc paused, his eyes challenging but then he lowered them and seemed to fade somehow. “It’s gone. My awareness of… being at the hospital with my mother and my grandmother; it has been fading and now it’s gone and… I don’t know what it means.” He raised his eyes again to Celyn’s and beside them Mererid swayed; horror overcoming her. She gripped her brother’s arm hard, steadying herself and holding on to him.

“You don’t think… I mean surely it can’t be…”

He put his hand over hers and their eyes met. He was shivering. “I don’t know. I don’t know what it means, being here. None of us are… really here; not it the sense we know it. We have all left our physical existence behind.” He raised his hand and looked at it critically. “Would it… would it make a difference to this… projection of us if… If…?“ He shuddered deeply and closed his eyes. When he opened them they could all see that he was near to panic. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know if I’m still alive back there.”

Both Marc and Mererid were ashen, their eyes locked, gripping each other as though they could somehow change reality simply by wanting it enough. With what was clearly an enormous effort Marc took a deep breath and smiled a washed out smile.

“We are not achieving anything here. Let’s get this done. One way or another we have to see it through to the end, whatever that end might be.” Raising his eyes he looked up the steps which wound round the tower above them. “I think we have a long way to go.”

“But if we don’t end it…we could stay here, like this… maybe…”

“Don’t even think it Meri. Who knows what would happen and it would mean that your physical body would die too? That’s not an option.”

“But…”

“Get climbing sister; I’m right behind you.”

Reluctantly she turned and began to climb. Behind her Marc’s face was bleak. He had helped her. She would have given up there and then if he had encouraged her to. Without the two of them the quest would fail. But he had helped her and he had felt nothing. As he put his foot on the first step he was startled by a touch on his shoulder; a body close to his. He froze. “I’m here,” a shaking voice murmured and he turned his head to meet silver green eye that were as scared and uncertain a he was but stubbornly resolute. For a moment he allowed himself to become weak; to rest his head on the soft shoulder; to allow the strong arm to support him.

The stairs wound on and on. Sunlight from the outside filtered through crystal, sent rainbows skittering before their feet and the glare was blinding. Before they had gone far they were all wincing; the gnaw of headache beginning to bite behind their eyes.

Time in that place was not the same as elsewhere and they had no way of knowing how long they climbed. It could have been hours, days or years. They rested more and more often as they climbed and everyone but Gwyon were exhausted and struggling by the time they reached the top.

And then, quite suddenly, they turned a twist in the staircase and found themselves on a wide landing. On both sides the walls of the tower curved around them, reflecting nothing but blue sky. Facing them was a flat wall with no sign of either door or window.

“This is it then.” Gwyon said firmly.

“Seems so.”

“How do we get through?”

“I would imagine; in the same way we found the island in the first place.” Unslinging his harp Gwyon ran his fingers over the strings and a rippling melody filled the crystal room and seemed to turn the cold blue walls a soft glowing yellow. In the middle of the wall lines of fire appeared, like cracks which flowed together to make the outline of a door.

For a moment they all stood still, looking at the flaming door and all hesitated to touch it. Marc grunted as a flash of memory burned behind his eyes. “If, by some miracle they should succeed in reaching the crystal tower you must ensure that it is Celyn who touches the door first.” He frowned deeply and put his hand to his head.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. It’s just this light; It hurts my eyes.”

“No it isn’t. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, can we please just get this done? Can someone please open the door?”

He was holding on to Mererid, and Gwyon was still playing the harp, keeping the outline of the door steady which left only Celyn and he stepped forward hesitantly; unaccountably afraid. Marc watched him as he walked slowly across the floor.

“Wait.” Celyn hesitated and looked back over his shoulder. Marc paused, his head thumping. A war raged inside him. He was scared; so scared. He had a good idea what would happen to whoever touched the door... otherwise why would she have been so concerned about it. He was scared; he didn’t want to die, but... Celyn turned uncertainly and there was something about the look in his eyes, the beauty that surrounded him, that made the decision easy.

Before he could change his mind he strode purposefully across the floor ignoring the angry shriek which echoed inside his head. Pausing beside Celyn, he stared deeply into his eyes. Celyn looked stunned, scared. The screaming in his head died, silenced by that look and a smile rose in him stunning Celyn even more by the expression it brought to his eyes. “Just in case,” he whispered and, keeping eye contact the whole while, he slid his hand into the soft hair behind Celyn’s neck, he drew his head forward and kissed him gently.

Leaving Celyn open mouthed and in total shock Marc completed his journey to the glowing door. Laying his palm against the door he pushed. Nothing happened. He tried again but the door did not move an inch. And then he noticed that, where his hands touched the crystal it had begun to glow with a warm orange light.

The glow spread from his hands to the whole door and in moments it was glowing orange getting brighter and brighter. He could hear Mererid calling from a great distance, the notes of the harp flowed over and through him and then in a great burst of energy the door dissolved into nothing.

Marc was unaware of the disappearance of the door. He no longer heard the music, was no longer aware of anyone or anything other than the energy which filled him. At first it was warm and energising, uplifting him, filling him with sunshine. But as it grew and increased in intensity it became, at first uncomfortable and then painful as every atom of his being, suffused and straining, throbbed with the incredible force of it. It reached a point where he thought that he could bear it no longer; that his body would explode, each atom spinning off on its own and then with one last silent explosion it was gone leaving him empty of all but its memory.

For Mererid the terror had gripped her from the moment Marc had begun to move away from her. She tried to go after him but when he paused and kissed Celyn she took a step back shocked but, strangely not surprised. Seeing the way that Celyn held him, so gentle but so strong; for a moment she felt... relieved. The instant he touched the door Marc was surrounded by a nimbus of energy that no one could penetrate. Mererid threw herself at it but, as the energy built and fizzed inside Celyn, growing alarmed pulled her back into his arms. At first she fought him but when she caught the look in his eyes she stopped.

“You love him,” she said simply. For a long moment he stared at her and then nodded. Closing her eyes she sagged against him and let him hold her.

When the energy flared and died they all froze. The door was gone. Through the hole it left they could see the room on the other side. Shadowy figures, indistinct in the bright light were beginning to move towards them. Mererid saw none of it; all she saw was her brother slowly fold and fall to the floor limp as a rag doll.

With a cry she broke free and ran to him, ignoring the two children who stood staring at them shyly in fear. She threw herself to her knees and stopped. He was lying, half on his back and half on his side. His eyes were open, staring into the distance, unseeing.

“Marc?” Afraid to touch him she hesitated, shaking all over. She was barely aware when Celyn knelt beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. Numbly she turned her head to look into eyes that were bright with tears. He was struggling to keep it together but she could see intolerable pain and knew that he understood, maybe even better than she did. He smiled; an unbearably strained smile and turned his head; partly so that she couldn’t see his pain any more and partly because he could no longer turn away. Slowly and gently he reached out to touch the cold face; to brush the still lips. He closed his eyes, unable to bear it any longer.

“It... it doesn’t mean anything Meri. This isn’t real… it... doesn’t mean that, back there.”

Shaking her head, with wide wild eyes she rocked on her heels. “I can’t do this, Celyn. I can’t stand it. I thought I was going to lose him and then I came here and he was… he was strong again and then, earlier I was afraid again because I didn’t know what was going on back there and now… and now… and I still don’t know. I can’t keep losing and finding him and not knowing how it will end. I can’t do it.”

Taking her face between his hands he gazed deeply into her eyes. “Yes you can, you can. You can do whatever it takes. He is... I have to believe, Meri; I have to believe that we can save him or I might as well give up right now. He blinked away tears. I know it’s... it may be difficult to believe but... I love him Meri; I always have. He is my brother but not my brother. I have known him all my life without knowing him. Nothing makes sense; nothing except... except that I love him. I can't go back...to the way it was before. My life was empty; incomplete. There was a huge chasm in my heart that nothing could fill. I didn’t know what it was. I lived with it because I had to. And then... I can't go back to that.”

“Yes you can. He did this for you. He sacrificed himself for you and you can’t throw that sacrifice away. The chasm that you talked about... it know it; it’s there... inside me. It’s the same for you and me. It’s the place where he should be.” She reached out and took his hand: it was cold and lifeless. “Do you think... so you really think that back there... that he...?”

“No; I don’t think but... but I can hope.”

Leaning over her brother Mererid sobbed out her pain and fear