writing_shadows

“I’m not going to ask anyone else to do this.”

The comprehension on Kay and Jay’s faces is enough. They know what I plan. I’d like to find another way, but none of us can come up with anything. Kay’s bright eyes filled with tears as we talk to each other and hug. Jay looks as though he’s already bereft.

“You’re making dumplings?” The person behind me seems slightly amused and astonished.

“I’m not intending to die on an empty stomach.” I make beef stew, sticky dough cool in my hands as I mould dumplings and drop them into the gravy. The methodical rhythm is as calming as meditation.

“You have called me far from home.” The Winter Hart looks pleased as I explain how we’ve reforged the blade of the Fisher King; that we’ve found his soul and spoken to him. I quietly explain the issue; that I need to loosen my soul to finish the Fisher King’s work.

Max looks at me as he anoints me into the Winter Kings. We don’t talk about what this means. He knows. Winter Hart accepts our work. I feel light-headed, as though I’ve not slept for two days; slightly detached from the world. It’s possible I manage to confuse Winter Hart by giving him a hug.

This kind of ritual should be performed solemnly, with proper equipment and preparation. Instead I’ve got some buckets scrounged from the galley filled with rope from which blood drips, and a pocket full of rowan spikes. Jay takes one end in his mouth and Max takes a spike as I explain quickly what they need to do. We step into the cave, the ceiling’s low and the sides roughly cut. In the centre the newly birthed idigam quiver; their presence making me feel nauseous.

I feel its malevolence and suddenly my limbs are on fire. I thank Luna that I’d thought to shift forms, and cough as I sprint in the direction Jay and I agreed, the blade of the Fisher King poking out of the bucket I’m carrying in my mouth. I skid to a halt and Jay lands beside me, the other end of the flesh landing at my feet.

I slice my forepaws open on the blade of the Fisher King and pounce on the ends of the barrier. I will essence to surge around the circle and feel it take hold.

“Mal now!” My howl sounds over the din of battle and I realise that a blink of an eye has passed, and yet there are already three forms lying on the ground. I slam the sword into the ground, entangle the flesh around it and close my eyes.

The second bolt hits me and for one brief second I can only feel pain. I scream out to Winter Hart and feel my soul slide out of my flesh and into the sword, carried by a wave of love from my pack.

“Sorry Harmony. I would have loved to meet Heather. And sorry Cailleach. Guess we won't destroy each other after all...”

And then there is nothing but peace.