Shirley Murphy - The Catswold Portal

“The queen has told her armies the rebels mean to enslave the Netherworld. She tells them the rebels plan to take all the land. She has made her troops afraid of being enslaved by the rebels so they will fight more fiercely. The Harpy says that at the front lines the rebel troops are caught by the queen’s spells, that they sicken with fever and are torn by thirst. Even where the streams run cold, they often cannot touch water. Her magic drives them back as if by a wall.”

Terlis shook her head. “Canteens containing water go dry, and the Harpy says Siddonie has laid rotting-spells to tear the rebels’ clothes from them. Naked, they are the more vulnerable to every blade, and they are cold and demoralized.”

“Has Siddonie spell-cast all our forces?”

“She puts her spells only on the ones that draw near the front lines of battle. The Harpy thinks she hasn’t enough power to hold spells upon all the attacking troops.”

“Is there anyone left in the villages?”

“Only a few old men and women, and the smallest children. The villages have little to eat—Siddonie has destroyed everything.”

“Where is the fighting?”

“In Ferrathil now, but moving toward Cressteane. Siddonie means to cause the Catswold troops from Zzadarray to fight beside her. The Harpy said to tell you that.”

“How did the Harpy know I would come? Of course, her mirror. But—”

“The Harpy said to tell you this: You are Timorell’s daughter. You have found what you needed to find. Now use it.” Terlis looked at her, shivering.

Melissa said, “You must go back to the gardens and keep Briccha occupied. The horse will still be here when I’m gone. You can put him in the pasture.”

At Terlis’ puzzled look she turned and headed for the dungeons.

Chapter 63

Braden tore at the wall with his hands, smashed his shoulder against it, threw all his weight against it. It refused to move. She had opened it; her words had opened it. He had seen the wall swing inward, had seen her go through. The solid stone wall had slammed in his face, had hit him in the face, scraping his jaw and arm, bruising his hands. For an instant he had seen into the tunnel, had smelled the damp, raw earth. In the light that Melissa had made he had seen the walls of the tunnel leading down deeper into the earth. Then the wall had shut her away.

He fought the wall, battering at it and swearing, then he grabbed the ladder and ran at it, rammed the ladder’s end against the stone with such force that he broke the heavy side bar and the first two rungs. He flung it down, knowing coldly that only by magic could the wall be moved though he did not believe in magic.

Hadn’t believed in it.

He shoved the ladder aside, grabbed the metal wheelbarrow and swung it, hitting the stone with all his weight and force. Chips of stone flew in his face, pale gouges bloomed in the dark stone. The wall didn’t move. She was gone, where he could no longer reach her. He found the shovel and dug into the mortar, trying to pry the stones apart. Then he dug into the earth beside the stone. He would dig into the damned tunnel that way.

But then digging, jamming his foot hard on the shovel to ram it into the earth, he felt a draft behind him, and a beam of light hit the dirt in front of him. He swung around.

Morian stood looking, taking in the toppled wheelbarrow, the broken ladder, the shovel in his hand, the broken earth where he had begun to dig.

“She’s gone,” she said softly.

“Yes, she’s gone! Through the damned wall! You knew!” He stared at her, totally enraged. “She went through the goddamn wall. She went into the goddamn hill—and you knew it. How did you know? Christ, you knew what she would do.”

“You saw her go through the wall?” She was so damned calm he wanted to hit her.

“Yes, I saw her. The damned wall opened. She slammed the stone wall in my face.”

Morian laid her flashlight on the work table, leaving it burning. It cast a pool of viscous yellow onto the wall and left the rest of the room dark. She took the shovel from his hand. She pulled his hand into hers, holding it tightly. She picked up the flashlight again, its beam flashing across her silver cocktail dress. “Come on, Brade. Maybe I can help.”

He glared at her.

“I’ve been up in Olive’s empty house,” she said. “I left the gallery just after you did. I’ve been up there at Olive’s dining table reading her research.” She squeezed his hand tighter. “Before that, when I left the gallery, I followed you.”

He felt himself shiver.

“I saw Melissa, I saw her on the street. I saw the flash of her eyes in the headlights. I saw a crowd of people around her—around you both.

“And after you got in the car I saw people change into cats and run away into the darkness.”

She led him out of the tool room and up the dark garden. The only sound was their footsteps and the faint brushing of his pant legs against the tangled flowers. She said, “After you and Melissa drove away, and the cats ran away, I came home and let myself into Olive’s. I dug into her notebook.” She led him up the steps to Olive’s front door. Lights were on in the living room, the draperies closed. Inside, the room was cold and damp from being unoccupied. Morian sat him down at the dining table as if she were herding a small child, and she opened the notebook.

He didn’t want to read it; he pushed the book away. “I don’t need this, Mor. I know all this. She told me.”

She sat down at the table across from him.

“She went down there, Mor. Hell, it doesn’t help to know where she went. She shut me out. She shut me out of her life. I saw her go through a damn solid stone wall into another world, another life.”

He stared at Morian. “I have known Terrel Black for years. We have taught each other’s classes. Got drunk together, won awards in the same shows. Tonight I saw Terrel Black change into a black cat with one white foot.

“And I saw Melissa go through a solid stone wall into a world that can’t exist. And you knew about this. All the time, you knew.” He slammed the notebook shut.

“Not all the time, Brade. It took me a while to work it out. It took me a very long while to believe it.”

“She promised to wait for me in the tool room, but she didn’t wait. Christ, Mor, she’s going down there into the middle of a war. She told me that. She can’t—she can’t go back there alone.”

“Are you sure?”

“She went into the Cat Museum. She insisted I stay in the car. She came out wearing an emerald pendant. She said it had powers, I could—I could feel the powers.”

“She loves you, Brade.”

He stared past her toward the drapery-shrouded windows, realizing that for some time lights had been flashing and shifting against the pale cloth.

Morian turned to look, then rose and opened the draperies. “Sam’s is crowded, the lane is jammed with cars.”

He got up woodenly and went into the kitchen and began opening cupboards looking for a bottle. “Doesn’t Olive have a damned thing to drink in here?”

“The tool shed door is open, Brade. I know I closed it behind us. It—Brade…come here.”

He couldn’t find a bottle. Where Olive usually kept a fifth of brandy there was only a half pint of seltzer. He went back into the living room and stood beside Morian, who was looking out at the arcing lights swinging across the window as more cars pulled into the lane. He saw that the tool room door stood open. Beyond the door in the lane where cars were parked double, triple, the people getting out were not heading for Sam’s; they were heading for the portal. That was what it was called: the Catswold Portal. The damned door that had lured Alice.