Chapter 8
“Wake up,” someone said, jiggling my shoulder.
I opened my eyes to see Sid’s face peering into mine. She was leaning through the window. I hadn’t noticed the day before how delicate her features were. Her nose was small and pinched. Her green eyes sparkled from under long lashes. Her small mouth was rosy pink.
“Hurry and dress. We must race the sun,” she whispered.
I looked out the window behind her. It was still mostly dark, but the sun was on its way. I rose quickly and pulled on my boots, not stopping to dress in a fresh gown. Leaving my pup to the warm bed, I crept outside. Ludmilla stirred but did not wake.
Sid rounded the house and began to walk quickly toward the woods. “They liked the cream. You are forgiven.”
“What’s wrong with snowdrops?” I asked as I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes. Suddenly, I felt as if my hair had been pulled. “Ouch!”
“Oh, you,” Sid said disdainfully, “don’t blame people for ignorance,” Sid scolded someone directly in front of her. “She’s sorry.”
“Who?”
“Nadia.”
“And Nadia is…” I asked, rubbing my head.
“A fairy. Don’t you see her? No, no one does. But, she’s right there,” Sid said waving her hand in front of her as she marched quickly through the forest.
“Sorry, Nadia. Please be patient with me,” I said as I hurried to keep up with Sid. Whoever the phantom Nadia was, I was very certain I wanted to be on good terms with her.
Sid laughed. “You’re making friends.” She moved quickly over beds of fern and through thickets. Then, as if remembering that she had not answered my question, she said, “Snowdrops are poison to fairies. They can’t go near them. If you ever fear an evil fey has fallen upon you, take up snowdrops.”
Sid kept one eye on the sky and another on the woods ahead of her. The sun was moving quickly upward. We moved through the forest with great haste.
“Sid, how will I be able to follow you?”
“You can ride the silver thread. Do it the same as you did before.”
“How do you know about that?”
Sid didn’t answer me.
I continued, “And, besides, I did it by accident.”
She looked over her shoulder at me. “There is no such thing as accidents. Do it on purpose this time.”
“And if I cannot?”
“Then you cannot.”
I turned and looked behind me. The village was out of sight, and no clear path returned to it. I was at Sid’s mercy.
We entered a valley where the ground was covered by a vast bed of moss, a barrow in the center. Domed like a turtle shell, it rose some eight feet high. It, too, was covered in lichen. Save its shape, it blended into the land, was part of the earth. The mounds were magical places. Many of the barrows were burial mounds. Ancient kings and queens and powerful bards and Druids had been buried within. The mounds were places where the worlds were thin. They were places where the faerie folk and beings from the other world crossed the border between our world and theirs, just as they did with the standing stones.
“Come on, Raven Beak,” Sid called as she charged right toward the barrow. Pushing some fern boughs away, she revealed a hole the size of a man in the barrow’s side. Grinning madly at me, she slid into the hole. Her feet hung outside for only a moment, and then she disappeared.
“Are you coming?” she called from within the barrow.
I balked.
“Quickly!” she added.
Frowning, I wiggled into the hole.
Sid’s hands found mine, and she pulled me through. It was terribly dark and I felt, not scared, but ill at ease. We both paused and let our eyes become accustomed to the darkness. After a few moments, the pre-dawn light coming from the small hole dimly illuminated the space, and I could see more clearly. I gasped as I saw a skeleton lying on an altar in the center of the barrow. It appeared to be female. There were heaps of silver trinkets at her feet.
“Don’t mind Boudicca. She won’t hassle you, of all people.”
I stared at the skeleton lying on the stone altar. “Is it really her?” I asked and took a step toward her. “The ancient Queen? Is it really her?” My skin cooled to goose bumps.
Sid laughed. “Don’t you remember this place? Well, maybe you wouldn’t. You were riddled with fever from that axe wound when we brought you here, accursed Romans, but I stayed beside you until you passed. Seems I can’t get far from this place.”
“Romans? What are you talking about? I’ve never been here before,” I said, but my mind bubbled up with terrible images, memories of it. A small party walked with me, carrying torches, as we headed toward the mound. I was limping, holding my side. It ached terribly. Blood had squished through my fingers. I remembered knowing I was dying. I remembered sweating, and feeling sick, and pain. And I remember my terrible fear, not for myself, but for my daughters who I would leave behind.
“Yes, you have. Long ago,” Sid said, motioning to the bones on the alter. “What other proof do you need? Here you are. I begged them to wall me in with you, to slit my throat. I wanted to stay with you…you, when you were Boudicca. The last time we were together. You don’t remember?”
I saw Sid in a flash of double vision. She had the same face, but her hair was long and very pale-blonde. She was dressed like a warrior. I saw her leaning over me, tears streaming down her cheeks. In my memory, I reached up to touch her face. Blood marred her pretty looks. She removed her helmet and laid her head on my chest. After that, there was nothing. Everything went black. I closed my eyes.
“Sid?” I whispered, feeling myself swoon.
Sid laughed.
“There is a chain between us. Never to be broken. We have been and will always be together. You’ve just forgotten. Now, keep those eyes closed. Concentrate on the fey,” she whispered. “Believe that they exist. Know that the portal to their world lies here. Try to hear them.” Her voice began to trail off. “When you are ready, open your eyes, and you will see the portal. Enter. I’ll wait on the other side.”
I stilled for several moments, concentrating, and then opened my eyes. I watched Sid walk into a shimmering halo of green light. She entered the light and disappeared. Trembling, I moved toward the portal, but it evaporated before my eyes. Everything went dark. Now there was nothing. I stood in the spot where Sid had passed through the portal. Nothing. I swore I could hear Sid’s voice in a whisper. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate.
“See me,” I heard Sid beckon. “See me.”
I felt power surge up in me. It was a strange, tingly feeling. I opened my eyes. Green light glimmered before me, illuminating the cavern, shining its light on the bones of the dead queen. When I turned to look on the skeleton, the green light faded, and I couldn’t hear Sid anymore.
“Sid?” I called. A deep, empty silence fell all around me. My skin crept. “Sid? Sid, can you hear me?”
No answer came. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate again, but anxiety racked me. I was too late. A glimmer of sunlight slanted though the hole in the side of the barrow. The sun had risen.
I puzzled at what to do. I was certain I couldn’t get back to the grove on my own. Distraught, I sat by the hole and stared at the bones. My hands were shaking. My comrade, who swore we knew each other in lives past, had just disappeared into the world of the fey, and I was alone with bones—my own? I felt the otherworld pungently around me, more strongly than I had ever felt it before. My skin chilled to goose bumps. My head began to feel very dizzy. The darkness around me felt heavy. I closed my eyes and heard the wings of a bird. Wings. My wings. Raven wings. I felt myself fly though the darkness.