City Under the Waves - 5. Chapter 5

When they emerged again into the sunlight, Marc was waiting for them; sitting cross legged on the edge of the plateau staring out over the lake. He did not look up when Mererid sat beside him.

“Are you alright?” He didn’t respond; lost within his own thoughts. “Did it hurt you Marc? Modron said that it couldn’t have but… I thought…”

He turned his head slowly to stare up at her through the curtain of his hair in a gesture that was peculiarly his own.

“It wasn’t the crystal; it was her.”

“Who, Modron?” Mererid asked, surprised.

“No, the other one.”

“What other one? There was no one else there.”

“Didn’t you see her?”

“No, I saw no one. Only us…and Modron.”

“She was standing right next to me.”

“There was no one there Marc.” He sighed. It didn’t surprise him, not at all. He had almost expected it. He would have expected it if he had thought about it; if he had though about anything at all. He shuddered at the memory of what had happened to him in the cave. The smell of her; the touch of her hand; the luscious red of his lips that reminded him of over ripe fruit. The whole thing made him feel physically sick.

“Yes there was. Maybe you didn’t see her but she was there. She… possessed me; she… she burned me.”

“Then you were hurt?”

For a moment he considered telling her everything but the evil presence was strong all around him. If he spoke of it then he would make it real for her too. Maybe it would touch her and the light would go out of her eyes. The pain was still throbbing in his heart and he was not able to think clearly. All he could think of was protecting his sister from the cold touch; the evil hand that even now squeezed his heart. So he shook his head slowly and attempted a smile.

“No; not really. I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?”

“I…I’m alright Meri.”

There was something in his voice; in the paleness of his face and the pain in his eyes that spoke to her more clearly than any words could. Whatever he might say something was undeniably, deeply and terribly wrong. Mererid shivered and reached out to touch his face. Marc winced and caught her hand, moving it away from him. For a second he held her fingers as their eyes locked and she tasted his bitterness and pain. Horrified she cried out before she could help herself. Marc recoiled and the others came running.

“What is it Mererid? What’s wrong?” Celyn crouched beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. His face was dark with concern but she scarcely registered his presence; she was too shocked by what she had felt. Marc looked as though he were drowning. His eyes were wild and he was shaking all over.

Following her stare Gwyon and Celyn turned to look at Marc and the change in him was startling. His eyes hardened with a look that could almost have been hatred and he all but snarled at them. Meri was dazed. The pain she had felt in her brother was fading from her memory with unnatural speed and she was merely shocked by his reaction to her friends. She said as much and he turned burning eyes on her, unable to believe that she could have turned on him so quickly.

As though someone had thrown cold water in his face he realised that the reason she seemed so cold; so uncaring of the pain she had seen within him, was because she had been touched by the evil just as surely as he had. She was being prevented from seeing, from understanding. He was alone: more alone than he had ever been. There was no one he could confide in, no one on whom he could rely, no one who could help him. The evil was cutting him off; consuming him, destroying everything he could use to draw himself back from the brin; isolating him entirely in his pain and confusion. At the realisation he began to feel his sense of identity slipping away and he conceded the darkness another victory.

On the verge of tears Marc turned away from the eyes with their expressions which ranged from reproof to surprise and even, in one, the edge of understanding. He hesitated at that one but would not, could not let himself believe there was any help for him there. The silver/green eyes narrowed and glanced around. The soft lips pursed. Marc shivered. Somehow he knew; he of all of them had not been touched; he wasn’t forgetting. For a moment hope flared; hope and something else, something that felt... A stab of pain in his heart caused him to jerk his head away and he turned towards the lake.

Meri looked up into Celyn’s grave concerned face and smiled tentatively. She was confused. She had felt something; for a brief moment almost understood something, but what? There was something wrong, of that she was certain and she had almost known what it was…or had she known and forgotten? There was blind terror in the pit of her stomach and she knew that it had something to do with her brother but she could not, for the life of her remember what.

She looked at him now. He was like a wounded animal, shying away from them. There was an almost physical wall cutting him off from the rest of them. He was not looking at her, but away over the lake, his hands thrust into his pockets, his head bowed. The whole stance screamed weariness and hopelessness. The pain in his face was raw and terrible. But even as she rose to go to him it all slipped away again, leaving her confused as to why she had got to her feet.

A gentle touch on her arm soothed her; took away the fear. The smile on Celyn’s face was a little uncertain, but warm. “It’s alright. I’ll try to take care of him. I’ll try to keep him safe.”

“Safe from what?”

Celyn’s face grew sad. “You can’t know; not right now. You won’t remember and if you fight too hard you’ll hurt him; you’ll attract the evil and it will punish him, not you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You can’t Meri; you just can’t, but I do.” He glanced towards Marc and there was something in his eyes that Mererid couldn’t fathom but which made her feel better. For the first time since the incident in the cave she felt hopeful that Marc was going to be alright. With another smile Celyn caught Gwyon’s eye. The big man held his gaze for a time then nodded slightly. Celyn nodded too and walked slowly towards the figure who stood, alone and in pain on the edge of the path.

Marc jumped when he felt Celyn at his shoulder, and Celyn automatically grabbed his arm to stop him from overbalancing and falling over the edge. Automatically he jerked away but ended up grabbing him to stop himself falling. Startled, Celyn put his arm around his waist and yanked him back from the edge. Everyone stared at them and Marc, who had, for a moment almost relaxed against him, pulled away from Celyn and ducked into the cave, hoping for privacy to calm his heart and control the blush of shame that crept over his face. He was not to be allowed to get away so easily, though and there it was not so easy to escape.

“What happened?” Celyn asked softly.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do. It was her, wasn’t it; Aerfen. I felt her.”

“How...?” In his surprise Marc forgot to pretend he didn’t know what he was talking about.

“I don’t know how. Maybe it was what I saw in the crystal; maybe it was something I have known all along but I could feel her presence strongly. If I had known she was hurting you I would have stopped her.”

“She didn’t hurt me,” Marc insisted stubbornly.

Celyn smiled and there was something in his eyes that made Marc hang his head, unable to fight any more. “You don’t have to tell me,” Celyn said, taking a step towards him. Marc recoiled but he didn’t move back.

“I... I can’t.”

“That’s okay,” Celyn said, moving another step closer. Marc pressed himself against the wall. He was frightened; his heart beating wildly. The strange thing was that, this time, he had no idea what exactly he was scared of. “I won’t make you tell me. I won’t make you tell me anything. But you can. If you need someone to talk to; someone to help you, then I’m here. I saw it in you; that fear. I know that fear really well. It’s the fear of being isolated, alone, cut off from everyone else. It’s the fear of having no one to rely on, no one to help you. It’s her way, Marc. It’s what she does. That’s something else I understood from the crystal. It’s what she did to me; what she’s always done to me. I understand.”

As he spoke he moved closer until he was inches from Marc. He was so close he could smell him; feel the frantic beating of his heart. He could feel the pain and it hurt him too. He couldn’t explain the feelings that were coursing through him; he had never felt them before but he knew that he felt stronger and more powerful than he ever had and part of it was because he was meant somehow to help this boy that he barely knew and, truth be told, was still half afraid of. Marc’s eyes were wide and glowed amber in the dim light and there was something about them that drew him in.

If it hadn’t been that Marc was so afraid and Celyn so uncertain, who knows what might have happened. The air was charged with a power that wasn't about myth and legend but a whole different kind of magic. It crackled in the air between them and made their pulses race.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to linger here.” Gwyon’s deep, melodic voice echoed around the cave, startling both of them. Celyn turned and walked towards the mouth of the cave. He looked and felt slightly guilty but wasn’t sure why. Marc lingered longer, enduring a long, searching look from the bard who then turned away, leaving him alone.

For a moment Marc stared at the cave entrance and the path and lake beyond. He was stunned, confused. So much had happened in such a short time that he couldn’t process it. He remembered what had happened to him while he was attached to the crystal, only vaguely, as he remembered a dream. This dream had not been a good one and, quite apart from the terror of her domination there was something else that made his stomach churn. There was something of that feeling in his encounter with Celyn but it was... different; cleaner.

He began to walk when a voice echoed through the cave. “Don’t forget you’re mine. He can try to touch you but there is no one who can find you, who can save you now.”

“No,” he gasped. It felt as if the cave walls were closing in on him and he could hear the sound of his heartbeat loud in his ears. He staggered and grabbed at the wall at the cave entrance to stop from falling. He was suffocating. Even when he tried to take a breath of the cool air outside he felt that his lungs weren’t taking in enough of it. Forcing himself to calm down he concentrated on his breathing until his heart slowed and the pressure in his chest eased.

“Are you alright?” Gwyon asked, seeing the expression on Marc’s face. Fiercely proud as always he snapped back, his eyes flashing.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. For a moment Celyn looked as if he was going to say something but he turned away. Mererid looked up. Deep concern turned to frustration and annoyance so quickly that she really should have realised there was something wrong.

“Oh dammit! Let’s get out of here. We’re all starting to go crazy. Maybe we can stop brooding if we start doing?”

“Doing what?”

“Well, I am not entirely sure but I have a feeling….. I know where to start so let’s do that and see what happens.”

Brimming with a confidence she did not feel Mererid led them along the path and around the shore of the lake. From time to time she paused and stared into the depths of the water. How would she know the right place when she found it? And then, as she strained once more to peer through the murky water, it suddenly seemed to clear and she could see a street stretching away from her towards a larger building in the distance. Clear as a bell within her mind a single note of a harp sounded.

“This is it.”

“Okay, so now what?”

Mererid hesitated. She knew what was expected of her; exactly what she was supposed to do but now it came down to it she was afraid. The water was deep and cold and she couldn’t swim. In the cave it had seemed so right; so natural; so safe, but now… Taking a deep breath she turned to Gwyon and smiled.

“Now, I am going to get back your harp.”

The look that broke like sunrise over the dark crags of his face was worth the heartache the decision to proceed cost her. The warmth it made her feel lasted precisely long enough for her to look up and catch her brother’s eye and then the chill caught her again like a half heard chord; music swept away on the wind.

He looked so lost. She wanted to run to him; to hold him and soothe him; to stroke his hair and kiss him like she had when they were children. Seeing it in her eyes Marc again felt the cold hand of darkness spread out to touch her and he couldn’t let it do that. Knowing that it would hurt her he made his eyes go hard and let the coldness creep into his voice.

“What’s the matter sis? Got cold feet? You wouldn’t want your new friends to think you’re scared would you?”

It was as though he had slapped her. He winced at the pain in her eyes but held his own steady, even as a searing burst of screaming agony flowered in his head and quickly faded. A warning! He was helping her and that was not allowed. Biting back a scream, the only outward sign was a tightening of the lips which she took to be a sneer. Still reeling with the pure shock of it Marc turned away and threw himself down on the grass burying his head in his arms and shutting them all out.

Mererid turned to the lake, her back ramrod straight. The water was not as cold as she had expected. Slowly she waded in deeper and deeper and suddenly it was over her head and she was floating suspended, finding to her surprise that she could breathe quite easily.

Slowly she made her way down through the water, finding that she was actually enjoying the experience. As her eyes grew used to the water and the darkness she began to see the shadowy outlines of buildings in front of her and she swam down to them. It was spooky walking, or rather swimming, through the drowned streets. The plants of the lake bed waved like long grass and there was little difference between this sunken city and its counterparts above.

As she progressed down the street she began to feel uneasy; as though there were eyes watching her from the empty windows of the houses. When she turned her head all she saw was the sliver flick of fish, almost able to fool herself into believing that they were all she had seen. Quite suddenly she felt exposed and vulnerable; remembering the stories Celyn had told about swimmers being dragged down by invisible hands from below.

With effortless instinct she walked the streets taking all the right turnings. At last she stood before an open door and felt excitement build as she passed beneath the imposing carved columns. Inside was a hall, not huge but big enough that, in the semi darkness she could not see the far side. What furniture there had been had long since rotted away and where polished floorboards had once supported dancing feet there was now only a carpet of anemone, sea weed and small fish.

As she stood and stared; for a brief instant, the water drained away and sunshine streamed through stained glass windows to gleam on silver and the brightly coloured silk of the dresses which whirled and floated before her. She blinked and it was gone.

Looking around again Mererid was moved by the alien beauty of the underwater landscape. There was a deep peace in the gentle sway of the weeds and the tentacles of the anemone. As she turned her head something caught her eye. A dull glint in a clump of water plants underneath a broken window. Her heart pounded as she made her way towards it.

Fish scattered in panic as eager hands tore away the clinging fronds that held the harp anchored and drew it out into open sight for the first time in centuries. Even in the poor light the gold shone almost with a light of its own. Every line of the intricate carving was clearly visible. Against all the odds after centuries under water it was as bright and whole as it had been on the day it was lost; even the strings were intact and taut. Resisting the temptation to run her hands over them Mererid tucked the harp under her arm and turned to the door.

Leaving the hall was like walking out of home for the last time, knowing you would never return and she turned back with longing. Again she saw the swirl of skirts and heard the sound of music and voices raised in merriment. Her heart reached out to people long dead; to a town that would never again ring with laughter or throw comforting arms around sorrow and tears. Quickly, before her heart broke or she decided to stay she turned and hastened back from the deep, dark silence and headed back towards the light; to the warmth; to life.

As she left the hall she was too distracted to think about the movement behind the windows, being single minded in her goal to strike for the surface. She was well over half way back to the place where she had entered the city before the movement became so noticeable she could not help but look and this time she saw.

They were at every window and in every doorway. Silently watching; their eyes empty in dead faces, drained of blood and blue in the gloom. A scream died on her lips and she tried to run. It was a nightmare; the harder she tried to run the slower she progressed through the water; stirring up the sediment and weed so that soon she could see nothing. From all around she heard sighs, sensed movement and knew they were coming for her.

She could barely see. It was becoming harder to breathe and she suddenly realised that she was completely lost. She had no idea which way to go to bring her out where she had entered. For a moment she panicked spinning round where she stood, then she made up her mind that the important thing was to reach the surface; there would be time then to get her bearings.

Kicking strongly with her feet she began to rise. The water above her lightened and it began to seem as though she would make it to the surface, she could even see the sky; the tops of the trees in the distance. And then the hands rose from nowhere and fastened on her ankles, dragging her down. She tried to scream but no sound came; she tried to kick but she was anchored, held in grips like vices, sinking slowly through the dark waters towards the pale faces which stared up at her their lips drawn back over teeth like fangs.

She began to struggle, desperately thrashing and suddenly the strange ability to breathe underwater left her and her mouth and nose filled with it. Panic took her and her struggles increased tenfold. She realised that she was beginning to drown and she was swamped with a feeling of helplessness.

And then suddenly there was someone else there. It was too dark and she was too panicked to see more than a dark shape below her, tearing the hands away from her feet. Suddenly free she spun away still struggling. Strong arms wrapped around her and she kicked out desperately before she realised that, instead of pulling her down they were lifting her, raising her up and suddenly her head burst through the surface and other hands, warm living hands caught her and pulled her from the water.