Fire Arrow

SIXTEEN

The Bell

If only the fire arrow had not been lost to her. Brie could not fathom where it might be. She summoned a picture of the arrow in her mind. She remembered the oddly comforting sensation of it humming against her fingers, and for a moment she could almost feel it. Suddenly the picture changed subtly. She saw her quiver lying in a murky place and, next to it, her bow. Brie gave a start, opening her eyes. The picture faded. But her eyes felt hot and, as had happened before, she could not see clearly. She sat still, puzzled.

Then her stomach rumbled. Thinking back, Brie realized she had not eaten since the evening meal she shared with Hanna. She had lost track of time, but guessed that had been at least a day ago. She thought about the golden cupboard with its store of food, then shook her head imperceptibly. Perhaps it would indeed be better to die of hunger and thirst in this prison tower than to live as...

Her mind veered away from Balor. Instead she thought of Collun and a deep yearning took hold of her, so overpowering all else was obliterated. She conjured up an image of Collun, and, strangely, a faint humming vibrated under the skin of her fingers.

Collun sat by a campfire, his face illuminated by the orange glow of the flames. He stared into the fire and his face looked tired.

He looked so real, close even. Her humming fingers lifted as though to touch him. "Collun," Brie breathed.

Suddenly Collun looked up, startled.

Then the picture was gone and her vision blurred.

Sometime later, when she left the golden room, her vision was back to normal. Standing on the landing, she could feel the hulking weight of the bell above her, like a totem of doom, challenging her with its ancient evil.

The toll of a bell—a signal, to Hanna or Fara, though what they could do for her, she did not know. She again made her way sideways up the circular stairs. A throbbing, persistent mutter seemed to beat against her as she emerged into the belfry. "At your own peril," it seemed to say. "Pull on the rope and know desolation, despair." Its gaping mouth leered at Brie. She grasped the bottom of the ladder and hoisted herself up.

As she came even with the rope, the throbbing noise in the belfry felt almost like a scream. She put out a hand and grasped the thick hemp. It scratched against her palm, and rotted, ancient bits of it fell away. For a moment she feared the whole thing would disintegrate, but it did not.

She pulled.

The bell swayed, but only an inch or two. She pulled again, harder. It swayed again, farther, but not enough for the clapper to strike the sides.

Trying to lodge her backside into the rungs of the ladder, Brie reached out with her other hand so that both hands grasped the rope. She pulled. Still it wasn't enough. With a muttered curse, she pushed herself off the ladder and dropped down, holding fast to the rotting rope.

As she swung through the air the clapper struck the side. The bell rang. Then the rope snapped and she fell.

Her hands caught at a plank of scaffolding, and she hung there. Hand over hand she made her way toward the ladder.

Meanwhile, the bell continued to toll. And the ringing seemed to gain momentum for, instead of subsiding, the bell tolled louder: Bong! Bong! Bong! And the chittering, soughing sound that had been so overwhelming before became a tidal wave, assaulting every nerve of her body.

She reached the ladder and clumsily, desperately slid down it. Then she grabbed the lantern.

Suddenly she noticed that a crack had appeared in the stone wall beside her. Two cracks, then three. And the tower seemed to be swaying. The bell continued to swing violently from side to side. Bong! Bong! Bong! The walls of the belfry and the floor beneath her feet shuddered with each Bong. Then Brie realized the bell tower was starting to break apart.

Side-slipping down the narrow stairway, she emerged on the landing. Inside the golden room she watched as the golden cupboard toppled over; the carafes broke, spraying water and wine over the golden rug and tapestries. Holding tight to her lantern, Brie plunged down the spiral stairway. Inside the stairway, cracks had begun to appear, and dust sprayed out with each new fissure, clouding the air. Brie's heart drummed as her feet pounded the stone steps. The cracks grew larger, more jagged. Small pieces of rubble littered the steps, and shards of stone pelted her head and shoulders.

She took the steps three at a time. Then, as she leaned into the wall for balance, a whole section fell away, and she tumbled headfirst down the stairs. She landed hard on a landing, stone dust raining down on her. Painfully she pulled herself to her feet. The door nearest her lolled open, its wood splintered. A buzzing, flapping exodus of insects swarmed around her. Screaming, she dived for the stairway.

Broken doors gaped open on all the landings. Once Brie slipped in something viscous and almost collided with the enormous spider; another time she tripped and skidded over bone fragments; she fended off clutching vines and choked on thick, smoky fog.

At last she reached the bottom. She ran to the massive door. Spidery cracks crisscrossed its stone surface, but to her horror the door remained unrelenting, immovable. It would be just her luck, Brie thought, if the whole tower collapsed on top of her, but this door remained standing, permanent until the end of time.

"Help!" Brie shouted.

She could hear nothing over the roar of the collapsing tower and the unceasing Bong! Bong! Bong! of the bell. Brie winced as a large chunk of stone struck her on the back.

"Help!" she cried again. Hanna and Fara were out there somewhere, though how they would hear her cries over the sound of the thundering bell she did not know. But she kept calling, until her throat was raw and caked with stone dust.

She paused a moment, leaning her forehead against the cracked stone. And through the deafening tumult she heard a very faint cry.

"Brie!"

She held her breath.

It came again, louder. "Brie, are you there? It's Collun."

At first she did not believe; she thought she must be back in the golden room, dreaming of him. He could not be on the other side of the door. She swallowed hard, then shouted, "Collun?"

"Brie!" It was Collun's voice, and it was real.

The bell seemed to be getting louder. To Brie's aching ears it seemed to say Doom! Doom! Doom! Through her fingertips she could feel pounding on the outside of the door, but the door did not give. Part of the ceiling collapsed around her. Honey and warm candle wax dripped from above onto her skin; insects crawled across the floor.

"Collun!" she screamed.

She heard him curse, then came a series of muffled sounds accompanied by the neighing of a horse. A long jagged crack splintered down the length of the door.

Instantly there was a crash, a flash of horse's hooves, and the door before her split in two. Brie pushed through the jagged opening. Collun grabbed her hand, boosting her up onto the back of a horse. Wrapping her hands in the familiar soft white mane, Brie leaned her head alongside the horse's neck and whispered "Ciaran," as the Ellyl horse spun and galloped away.

Ciaran navigated the zigzags of the underwater pathway with ease, and Brie turned to see Collun following on the Ellyl horse Fiain. Pieces of the tower rained down along their path and suddenly a large chunk of masonry plunged into the water directly in front of Brie and Ciaran, hurtling water into their faces and pulverizing the stone walkway beneath their feet. Without hesitating, Ciaran plunged into the water.

Despite the shock of the cold water, Brie managed to stay on the Ellyl horse. Ciaran headed unerringly for the bank of the lake. Like Fara, Ciaran was as comfortable in water as on land. As the lake grew shallower, Ciaran's hooves found bottom; then they burst out of the water at full speed. Ciaran did not stop until they were far away from the disintegrating tower.

Brie anxiously watched for Collun and Fiain and was relieved to see them emerge, dripping, from the lake.

Fiain cantered to Ciaran's side and they all turned to watch the tower. Unbelievably it still stood, though great chunks were missing. The tower began to list heavily to one side, top-heavy with its great evil load.

Suddenly there was an earsplitting sound, a thunderous crack, and as they watched, riveted, the tower finally collapsed. The bell hit the water with an enormous splash, giving a last deafening Bong! as it broke the surface and then sunk. The water roiled and heaved, as if from a mighty wind, and large waves sloshed over the banks of the lake. But the bell tower had vanished completely from sight.

Brie stared at the water. The waves subsided and it was not long before the surface was once again smooth, gleaming like a mirror, revealing nothing.

The fire arrow was gone, buried under tons of stone and wood, at the bottom of the lake. Brie felt short of breath, almost winded, as from a blow or a loss that could never be repaired.

"Brie?" Collun's voice broke into her grief. Ciaran whickered.

Brie tore her gaze from the lake, unconsciously straightening her back. Suddenly she spotted Fara loping over the grass toward them. Brie quickly dismounted and was almost knocked down by the faol's joyous greeting. Fara's sandpapery tongue left her cheeks wet.

"Where is Hanna?" Brie asked, her eyes darting from the banks of the lake to the bluff and back again. Fara let out a low mournful sound.

"I found a woman, unconscious," Collun interjected, "by the side of the lake, with Fara and two dogs. She..." He paused. "Once I convinced the dogs I could be trusted, I did what I could, that is, until the bell started to toll ... I do not know if she will make it."

Brie gave an anguished sound. Urging Fiain forward, Collun quickly led Brie to a small grove of ash trees a short distance from where they had watched the tower collapse. Brie saw Hanna lying still, Jip and Maor huddled beside her.

Bending her ear to Hanna's chest, Brie listened for the older woman's heartbeat. Nothing. Her own heart was pounding, loud, too loud to hear anything. She continued to listen and finally heard a faint thrum, as if from far off. But she could not tell if the sound came only from her desperate need to hear something.

"Hanna," Brie murmured, thinking, She cannot be dead; she must not. In despair Brie lay beside her friend to warm her. She encircled the inert, chilled body with her arms—heart to heart, brow to brow, hand to hand—willing Hanna to breathe.

Then Brie heard a faint noise, like a breath. Brie opened her eyes. She put her hand above Hanna's partly opened mouth. Yes, she could feel a whisper of air.

"Hanna!" Brie cried.

The older woman's eyelids wrinkled, then opened. Brie sat up, taking her friend's cold hand in hers and chafing it gently.

"Thank Amergin," Brie breathed.

Hanna gazed quietly up at her.

Brie could tell Hanna lacked the strength to speak and gave her hand a squeeze. "Rest now," she said.

Night had fallen, and silently Collun set about lighting a fire. He took herbs from the wallet he wore across his chest and made a posset of hyssop and lavender for Hanna. When it was done the older woman obediently drank it, then slept. Brie fell asleep as well, sitting beside Hanna, holding on to her hand.

***

Brie woke in darkness. For a moment she did not know where she was, thinking herself back in the bell tower. She was very cold and began to shiver uncontrollably. She carefully sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to stop the shivering.

"Brie?" It was Hanna, and Brie could just make out her figure, lying propped up an arm's length away. She was drinking more of Collun's concoction, holding the cup herself. Collun was leaning forward, poking the fire with a stick. Flames leaped up, illuminating his face.

"I have met Wurme-killer," Hanna said in Eirrenian.

Collun frowned. "Collun," he said. "Are you hungry, Brie?"

"Starving," Brie replied in a hoarse voice.

And though it was the middle of the night, Collun reheated the water and began mixing up a batch of oatcakes. Brie moved closer to Hanna and to the fire.

"What happened to you, Biri, in the tower?" asked the older woman, gazing critically at Brie.

Brie shook her head, unready to talk of it. "First you," she said.

"There is little enough to tell," responded Hanna. "When I woke and found you gone, the dogs and Fara picked up your scent and followed it down the bluff to the lake. There was a thick mist over it, obscuring the tower, but I guessed this to be the lake we sought.

"Fara was all for swimming right out into that mist, but I didn't like the look of it. So, more fool I, I decided to try to lift the cursed thing. Now fogs, either lifting or causing them, make me dizzy, but this one had my head swirling like the Corryvrecken whirlpool. The harder I tried, the worse the spinning got, until I hardly knew ground from sky. And I realized, just a little too late, that this was no ordinary fog, but a lien dewin, a sorcerer's veil. And an almighty powerful sorcerer's at that. I felt myself beings pulled into the vortex, and I could not stop it. That's the last thing I knew. Except for the dogs howling and Fara licking my hand raw with that tongue of hers."

"It was Fara who led me to the lake and to Hanna," interjected Collun, handing Brie an oatcake. He offered her honey, which she refused, and then he sat down to eat an oatcake himself. In the light of the fire, Brie covertly watched Collun. He looked different to her. Taller and leaner. Of course he had gotten older since she had left him at Cuillean's dun. But his gestures were the same. Brie's heart squeezed with some indefinable emotion.

Collun looked up and Brie quickly averted her eyes. Abruptly Collun rose and left the fire, carrying the pan he'd used for cooking.

"I like your friend," came Hanna's voice, drowsy. Soon Brie could hear Hanna's even breathing.

When he returned to the fire, Brie asked Collun if Hanna would be all right now.

"I believe so, though I know little of weather magic. At any rate, sleep will do her good," Collun responded. "It looks as though you could use more rest yourself," he added, gazing down at Brie's haggard face. Suddenly self-conscious, she raised her hand to her matted hair, bits of insect and candle wax still tangled in it.

"Collun, I..."

"Go to sleep, Brie." She could not read his face in the darkness above the fire, but the chill in his voice puzzled her. It was almost enough to keep her from sleep, but not quite. Again she drifted off, to the sounds of Hanna breathing and the firewood settling.

***

Brie woke early. The sun had dawned bright and it promised to be a warm spring day. Both Collun and Hanna still slept. Brie stood, dug out the remaining sliver of Monodnock's white lilac soap from her pack, and walked to the lake. Fara appeared silently at her side as she gazed out over the smooth mirrored surface. It was as if the bell tower, with its strange rooms and great evil bell, had never even existed. Like the fire arrow, it was gone without so much as a ripple to show for it.

Fara rubbed against Brie's leg, purring. "I know," Brie said, rubbing her thumbs over the tips of her fingers, remembering the tingling feeling of the arrow. "I'll get over it." But she was not sure she ever would.

Quickly Brie washed in the cold water. When she returned to camp she found that Hanna still slept, but Collun had kindled the fire. He was brewing chicory and the familiar smell warmed her. She had not had chicory since leaving Eirren. Collun poured her a cup and she took it gratefully.

"If you had not come, I would have died. Thank you," she said humbly.

"In truth, I did little." Again she heard the chill in his voice.

"Collun...," she began.

"More oatcakes?" He interrupted her.

"Please," for she was still very hungry, though this new tone in Collun's voice distracted her from her rumbling stomach.

Suddenly Brie remembered the dream she had had of Cuillean's dun and the soldier Renin dead. "Did something happen, Collun? At Cuillean's dun?"

Collun's face shifted, his eyes went opaque like teine stones. "Several months after you left, there was an attack, by Scathians and morgs."

"The soldier Renin?"

"Dead." His voice was flat. "You knew?"

"It was a dream I had, but tell me."

"There is not much to tell. They came by sea. We were taken by surprise. Fortunately it was a small band and we managed to fight them off." His jaw had gone rigid. "We buried Renin on that headland overlooking the sea. And over his cairn I pledged that would be the end of it; I would no longer be the bearer of the cailceadon. It has cost too much." Brie knew that Collun was thinking of Crann, the wizard of the trees.

"I journeyed to Temair and gave the trine and stone to Queen Aine and King Gwynn."

Brie knew how much it must have cost Collun to give up his beloved trine.

"They agreed to take it?"

"It was not a choice."

Anger, that was what Brie heard in Collun's voice. A silence grew up between them.

"So, Brie, did you find your revenge?" Collun's eyes were still hard, opaque; and though they were said almost casually, the words were like a knife thrust.