by When my mother said she’d given me the most beautiful name she could think of, it might be of interest to know that she was referring, more or less, to her own. Delia Vesper sat inside the mouth of the cave, propped against the dark rock wall, and shrouded in so much shadow that I could barely make out the details of her form.
‘Is that your Waymaster?’ said Delia from the darkness.
‘Yes, but we tend to call him Jay.’
‘Jay Patel,’ said Jay. ‘Hello, Mrs. Vesper.’ He was so polite, I’m sure he would have shaken hands with her if he could.
Her voice, when it came again, was wry. ‘It’s Miss Vesper, but you may call me Delia.’
Further questions bloomed in Jay’s mind, judging from the brief glance he made at me. I privately hoped I wouldn’t have to answer too many of them.
It occurred to me that my mother hadn’t moved, and that seemed rude, even for her. All right, then. If she wouldn’t come out, I’d have to go in. ‘So,’ I said, and ducked into the mouth of the cave. ‘Why are we here?’ With a flick of my finger I summoned a tiny fireball, just enough to cast a light. It’s about as much as I am capable of in the fireball arena.
My mother made a frightful sight. Her skin, always pale, was white as wax. Her shabby, old clothes and auburn hair were matted with dirt, the latter tangled, but these things were not so unusual for her.
The blood, however, was.
I fell to my knees beside her. ‘Mother,’ I said sharply. ‘You’re hurt.’ She was cradling one arm, her breath coming short; it must have cost her some effort to speak in such measured tones.
‘A bit.’ She eyed me with the same old challenging look: would I, dared I, imply that she could not fully take care of herself?
The dried blood soaking her clothes — hell, my very presence on Sheep Island — proved that, this time, she could not. I wasn’t having it. ‘You should have told me,’ I hissed. ‘I’d have brought Rob. You need medical attention.’
‘I haven’t died yet, have I?’ She would have shrunk away from me, I think, if she had not been so hurt.
I may have growled. ‘Mother,’ I said firmly. ‘Don’t be so damned difficult. You know you need help, or you would not have called us in. So. Tell us what happened, and then we can decide what to do for you.’
Jay had joined us by this time. He hovered, as uncertain as I was as to what to do for my stubborn parent. He made some attempt at scrutiny, but with the dim light and his lack of medical knowledge, he was as powerless as I.
We sat, and waited.
Mother gave a short, harried sigh. ‘I came here a month ago with a team. We’d heard tell of a village that once existed upon one of these islands. Thought to be decimated by plague somewhere in the 1300s, and fallen into ruins. My kind of thing.’ She spared a brief smile.
In case you hadn’t guessed, my mother’s an archaeologist. She specialises in the unearthing of lost magickal settlements, and the medieval era’s her speciality. I could well imagine that such a rumour would light her fire.
‘Well, we started here. At first we thought ourselves mistaken. You no doubt saw as you came in that the terrain here is largely flat and undisturbed. Buried villages tend to leave some lumps and bumps here and there, where earth and grass have grown over chunks of toppled buildings—’
‘We know that, mother,’ I interrupted. I would not normally be so impatient, but for heaven’s sake, the woman was bleeding. Judging from her face, she was lucky not to have bled to death.
‘But,’ she said, as though I had not spoken. ‘Hank — you remember Hank? Reads every book ever written — Hank said that these islands had a strong gnome population around that era, and—’ Here she paused for breath, growing a shade or two paler. ‘—he was right. The village was below. We found it after three weeks, and, well…’ Unbelievably, she gave a tiny snort of laughter. ‘It wasn’t as deserted as we were hoping.’
‘What did you find?’ I prompted, when she fell silent. Surely, she did not mean that gnomes still lived down there. They weren’t known for violence.
‘Lindworm.’
Lindworms are a species of dragon, the wingless kind. Vicious. Cave-dwelling. Sometimes treasure-guarding, but sometimes just mean. ‘Did anybody else make it out?’
Silently, mother shook her head.
I pushed thoughts of Hank from my mind — he’d been a sporadic but genial presence during my short childhood at home, and though I had never thought to see him again, the news of his death cost me a swift stab of pain.
But mother was bleeding.
‘I’ve lost a hand,’ she said suddenly.
‘Shit. Mother, you — why didn’t you call for help?’
‘I did.’
‘I don’t mean me! You need an ambulance!’
‘Cordelia.’ Unbelievably, my mother ceased clutching her wounded arm and instead fastened her one remaining hand around my wrist. ‘I couldn’t. You don’t know what else we found down there.’
‘Was it worth this much secrecy? You could’ve died waiting for us to arrive! Gods, maybe you still could—’
‘Stop fussing. If I was going to die I would have done it already. Listen. Look at this island. Does it not strike you that it is far too small to host a lindworm underneath?’
‘Yes.’
‘It is not there now.’
‘What? How do you know?’
‘Why do you think I am still alive? It vanished. Vanished, Cordelia. And I saw how. There’s a gateway down there.’
‘A gateway.’
‘I don’t know where it goes, but we need to find out.’
‘Need? You’ve lost a bloody hand!’
Her jaw set, she stared at me, eyes glinting in the firelight. ‘I’ve sacrificed a hand for this. Hank and Petra and Lily have died for this. We are not leaving.’
We glared at each other for a few, long moments, each simmering with fury.
Until Jay, softly, chuckled. ‘Some aspects of Ves’s personality are becoming clear,’ he said to my mother. ‘She’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, and once she’s got interested in something, there is no stopping her.’
She, to my surprise, gave a wry smile. ‘That’s my girl.’
Jay looked, enquiringly, at me, and I understood that it was my job to decide.
Damn it.
‘Answer me one thing,’ I said to my mother.
‘Anything.’
Interesting carte blanche, and unusual; no time to take advantage of it. ‘Why did you call me in? Haven’t you got hosts of other, highly qualified archaeologist acquaintances you could have called for help?’
‘I don’t need an archaeologist. Weren’t you listening? They were eaten alive. So was I.’
‘Right, but—’
‘This isn’t about archaeology anymore. I needed an adventurer, and who better than you?’
‘What do you mean, who better than me? You haven’t appeared to remember my existence for six years! Presumably, anyone’s better than me!’
‘We can talk about that,’ said my mother.
‘While you’re quietly bleeding to death? I think not.’
‘I’m not bleeding to death. Barely bleeding at all, anymore.’
‘How did you manage that?’
‘Fire magick. Cauterised it.’
I blanched. Shit, my mother was brutal. ‘Fine. Okay, you’re not about to die. But you don’t look good, mother, permit me to say. You still need medical help, and a lot of rest.’
‘Sure,’ said mother. ‘Later. First we find out where that gate goes.’
‘Why are you so interested?’
‘We’re in Cumbria. In case you weren’t aware, it’s riddled with folklore.’
‘The juicy kind. I know. But most of those kinds of stories are rubbish, mother. You know that. Fairy stories for non-magickers.’
‘Most. Not all.’
‘You’ve got some particular tale in mind, haven’t you?’
‘Might do. We can talk about that, too — later.’
I sighed. Jay was right: my mother and I were fairly equally matched, but I knew when I was losing. ‘I still wish you’d told me what was going on. I would definitely have brought Rob.’ I briefly considered sending for him, but by the time he got here… for all my mother’s claims, I still wasn’t at all sure she was out of danger.
Best to get it over with.
That said… lindworms were no picnic.
‘We’re going to need one hell of a plan,’ I said.
‘Actually,’ said my mother, ‘I was hoping those pipes of yours would do the trick.’
‘I’ve never tested them on a lindworm before,’ I said cautiously.
‘But their effectiveness is renowned. Legendary. How did you get hold of them?’
‘We can talk about that. Later.’
She sighed. ‘I deserved that.’
I thought about it. I may not have tested them on a lindworm, but I had tested them on griffins very recently — twice. And we were still here. ‘We can try it,’ I said. ‘But you’re staying up here, at least until we are sure it’s safe down there.’
‘Cordelia—’
‘No arguments. You’ve lost one hand and three friends. Do you want to lose more?’
‘I’d rather not lose my daughter and her Waymaster.’
‘Yeah, still Jay, not Waymaster. And you should have thought of that before you called us in, instead of, say, the cavalry. Off we go. You stay put.’
I got up and headed deeper into the cave before Mother Dearest could muster any further objections. She was weak. No way could she keep up with us.
‘Ves,’ said Jay from behind me. ‘Ves, slow down.’
I did, slightly. ‘What’s up?’
‘Didn’t you hear your mother? Three people have died down there this week. How about we don’t go marching heedlessly in and get ourselves killed, too?’
I took a breath, and stopped. ‘Right. Sorry. Lost my perspective for a moment there.’
‘The Vespers do have that effect on people.’
To that, I raised a single brow.
‘Never mind. About that hell of a plan you mentioned?’
‘Shields.’ I began there, mustering strong wards to shroud Jay and I against whatever we might find below. They wouldn’t stop a lindworm in full charge, or have much effect on its teeth. But, mother hadn’t said what species of worm it was. Poison-spitters were bad news, but my wards should take care of that.
‘Pipes.’ I retrieved them — Jay politely averted his eyes — and held them ready.
‘What do I do?’ said Jay. ‘You seem to have this covered.’
‘Still got that Wand?’ I said, referring to the Ruby one he’d been loaned from Stores.
He pulled it from his pocket, handling it tenderly. ‘Check.’
I withdrew my Sunstone Wand, too, and held it high. ‘In that case: prepare for battle.’
‘Battle. Huh.’ Jay visibly squared his shoulders, and wielded his pretty Wand in his fist, point down, as though he might stab someone with it. ‘I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned, but battle isn’t quite my forte—’
‘Learn quickly,’ I said over my shoulder, being already in motion again. I summoned a few more fireballs, and let them drift ahead of me like a parade of wisp-lights, leading us down into the darkness. ‘You do, in this job.’
‘I’m beginning to see that,’ Jay muttered, but he caught up with me and kept pace, and we descended together.
The stone-walled passage spiralled steeply down, soon growing damp, earthy and chilly. For a little while, the prevailing silence led me to think that my mother’s report still held: the lindworm had vanished through its gateway and had not come back.
Then, after a few minutes of steady descent, a faint sound reached my ears: a distant whisper, shhhkk, as of something scaly sliding over stone.
‘About learning quickly,’ I whispered to Jay. ‘Lesson in self-defence imminent.’
Jay lifted his Wand high. ‘I hope you’re ready with those pipes.’
