Alys Clare - Land of the Silver Dragon

Or maybe our goal was the grave of Ceadda, Keeper of Swans. His very name was magic to my kin, and it was said that he possessed extraordinary powers.

But Edild had not gone as far as the humps that marked the old graves of the distant ancestors. Already she had stopped and now, as I watched her, she was dropping down on to the grass. She put down the lantern and knelt beside the most recent grave: my Granny Cordeilla’s.

I shook my head, not even beginning to understand. I knew what was in the grave, beside my grandmother’s tiny body in its shroud. I knew, because I’d seen her there. We had sent her on to the afterlife with the possessions she had treasured in life. The fine bone comb; some loom weights; the tiny earthenware cup with a flower painted on it. Small, everyday objects, not one of them of any value except to the woman who had handled them and loved them. Not one of them any good against the foe who had so ruthlessly threatened our family.

Edild beckoned to me, and I hurried to help her shift the large, heavy slab that covered the grave. A generous layer of earth now covered it, and I heard the sound of grass stems and roots tearing.

The open grave yawned beneath us.

Edild knelt for a moment, lips moving in prayer. I guessed she would add an apology to Granny Cordeilla for the disturbance. I didn’t want to look down; I had a fair idea what would be in the grave, and, as far as I was concerned, it was just the bodily remains; what was left of the flesh and bone that had housed Granny in her life. The real Granny Cordeilla — the big, generous heart, the love, the humour, the spirit — had long fled the earth. Not that I didn’t still feel her close — I did, I do, and very often I even get a brief glimpse of her.

I sensed movement. I turned my head, and saw that Edild was lying flat on the ground, reaching with one hand down into the grave.

I waited.

A quick smile of satisfaction crossed her anxious face. She straightened up, then turned back to the grave and murmured more incantations. Once again, she nodded to me, and together we replaced the slab.

She straightened up, and for a long moment stood with bowed head and closed eyes. I had no idea what was happening, but we had just been in Granny’s presence, and the sense of her was strong. I too closed my eyes and, in the privacy of my own head, spoke to her.

I felt Edild’s touch on my arm. Opening my eyes, I saw her incline her head, and she stepped a few paces away from Granny’s grave. I followed her.

She turned to me, and I saw her draw in a breath and square her shoulders, as if in preparation for some difficult task that would take all her strength. She held the lantern up high, in her left hand, and I saw that in the palm of her other hand lay an object, perhaps the size of her two closed fists, maybe a little smaller, wrapped in a length of worn sacking.

‘ That wasn’t in Granny’s grave!’ I said. A stupid remark, quite evidently wrong since Granny’s grave was precisely the place from where Edild had just extracted whatever it was.

‘Not when you last saw inside; no, it wasn’t,’ Edild agreed. Then, watching me intently, she said, ‘Lassair, do you recall the sequence of events, that morning you came back after Cordeilla’s funeral rites?’

I did. It would be virtually impossible to forget, since I’d found the slab askew and, widening the gap, discovered there was another body down there beside Granny 1. I’d raced back to fetch Edild, and we managed to get the other body out of the grave. Then Edild had sent me to the village for help, leaving her alone beside the grave.

Had the slab been back in place when I returned? I thought it had, although I couldn’t now be sure.

And had Edild used the time of my absence to slip whatever it was she now held into the grave? Where it was hidden in a secret place known only to her?

I stared into her eyes. Slowly she nodded. ‘Yes, I did. I put it in there with her that morning, while you were running to the village.’

‘But … but how did you know you’d get that opportunity?’ I demanded.

‘I didn’t — of course I didn’t,’ she said impatiently. ‘I was going to hide it later that day, probably at dusk when I was unlikely to be seen. In the meantime, I kept it in a leather bag, attached to my belt under my over gown. And it’s quite heavy,’ she added, glancing at the sacking-wrapped object.

‘Why did you have to hide it so carefully?’ I asked.

She looked straight into my eyes. ‘Because at all costs you weren’t to find it.’

‘ Me? ’ It came out as a squeak.

‘I had been left clear instructions. This is for Lassair, when she is old enough and wise enough to know how to use it, and to treat it with the respect and the awe it demands . In the meantime, I was to hide it so well that nobody would be able to find it.’

‘So you put it in with Granny,’ I whispered. In a flash like a sudden shaft of light, something occurred to me. ‘That was why you were so worried, that day when I told you I’d been out to the island to check that Granny’s grave hadn’t been disturbed!’ I cried, my voice rising with excitement. ‘When I found those signs that someone had been digging the recent graves in the churchyard, remember? You went so white I thought you were going to faint, and I thought it was because you were worried for my safety! You weren’t — you were suddenly terrified I’d report that someone had robbed Granny’s grave, and it was that — that thing you’re clutching — that you were so worried about!’

‘Hush,’ Edild said warningly. ‘Yes. I was afraid you’d given away the hiding place,’ she admitted. ‘I’m sorry, Lassair. Of course I was concerned for you too, but I confess that, in the first moment, you weren’t the most important aspect.’

I grunted a grudging acceptance of the apology.

Then I recalled what she’d just said: This is for Lassair, when she is old enough and wise enough.

I stared at her. ‘Am I old and wise enough, Edild?’

I fervently hoped so. I’d been through so much over the past few weeks, enduring abduction, fear, pain, homesickness, sorrow, and, worst of all, the very recent memory of Skuli’s terrible threat hanging over me unless I did the impossible and found his shining stone for him.

I felt I deserved some reward, and, you never knew, this mystery object might turn into something I might find useful. From what Edild had said, it sounded as if it had power …

A trickle of excitement ran up my spine, swiftly followed by another, much stronger one.

I was in the presence of some unknown, potent force.

Edild met my eyes. ‘It is time,’ she whispered.

Slowly she extended her right hand, and I held out both of mine. Slowly, reverently, she put the sacking-wrapped object into my hands, gently closing my fingers over it. ‘And so it comes to pass,’ she intoned, ‘as it was foretold, that this is transferred from he who gave it away, into the hands of she who, it was believed, would one day be the right one to receive it.’

To my utter amazement, she gave me a low bow. Then she stepped back.

Beyond the village behind us, the moon was just rising above the horizon. It was almost full, and its light shone brightly in the indigo, star-studded sky. There was no more need of lantern light: the spirits had provided all the illumination necessary. In the first brilliance of the night, I unwrapped the sacking and gazed at what I held.

It was a heavy glass ball, dense, black, and it might have been made to fit my hands. My fingers met around its circumference, their tips forming a neat, supportive, interlinked pattern, almost like a cage of bone, sinew and flesh. My flesh.