Shadow Self-chapter thirty-six

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on September 4, 2020
Posted in: birdsong, hope faith God whispers heaven, books, castles, changelings, Dwarfs, Eerie Places, enemies, Fairies, Fantasy, fiction, folklore, gloom, Goblins, Gothic, hags, hidden worlds, Ireland's past, Irish folklore, kings, legend, monsters, prince, princess, queens, revenge, strange worlds, teenagers, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

The campsite looked deserted when Corey and Juliet got back from visiting Biddy. There was not a sound to mar the silence other than the fluttering of the tent flaps, and the whistling of the wind across the barren landscape. Juliet shielded her eyes against the sun and looked towards the castle where multi-coloured dots darted about.

   “They’ve started the dig,” she ran towards her tent to get the tools needed. “Come on,” she called back at Corey.

Her laptop lay on top of her sleeping bag and she opened it. To her relief it had full power and she would be able to contact her mother, but that would have to wait until later. Now, she was excited about what lay in store, and the story that would unfold as they dug deep into the castle’s history.   Corey stood waiting, as she came running through the tents.

   “Did Steven charge your computer?” He asked.

   “Yeah, I just checked it.”

   “Do you mind if I use it later to check that everything’s all right at home?”

   “No problem,” Juliet said.

After that there was no more talking, as they needed all the breath, they could muster to run between the rocks dotting the land. The castle looked much bigger and imposing the closer they got, and soon its shadow fell across them.

   “It’s fantastic,” Juliet sighed.

   “Hey, you two,” the shout came from one of the towers, and they looked up to find Mr Thomas waving at them.

There were close enough to see the condition of the ruin. At such a height, it was open to the elements and showed the scars of wind and rain. Stones crumbled beneath their feet, and they slipped a few times before they reached the ancient stone steps.  

   “The others are around the back digging. I have checked the castle to make sure it’s safe. Have a look around before you start, if you like, then come and join us.”

He started to walk away and then…

   “Oh, by the way; you’ll never believe who I met in the village.”

A shout from one of his students sent him hurrying away.

   “I’ll tell you later,” he called over his shoulder.

   “I wonder what he was going to say.” Corey said.

   “Who knows,” Juliet shrugged. “It’s probably nothing.”

They stood for a moment to study the layout of the ruin. Bricks had fallen from the various floors and lay scattered on the ground. Strange coloured fungi clung to the side of the walls, and ivy trailed like garlands against the bricks. The tower, that Mr Thomas had called them from, was the only one with a standing staircase. The steps were worn smooth from the passing of countless feet and weeds grew between the cracks. Juliet began to climb with Corey following. The view from the top was breath-taking. The rock-strewn landscape stretched out for miles; the ravaged and stunted trees stood like small markers. It was possible to see the ocean from such a height and make out the small shapes of passing ships.

   “This is exactly how I saw it in my dreams,” Corey whispered. “I keep getting flashes of how it looks by night and I don’t know why.”

   “I’ve never seen it in my dreams,” Julie said. “But I can’t help feeling I’ve been here before. Are you ok?”

   “Yeah, just a bit freaked out by all this, and what Biddy said.”

They spent the rest of the day working, stopping only for lunch. The hours passed, as they dug and dusted the small items that jutted out of the exposed soil.

Amber and Sabba closed the office early and ran through the village. Despite being changelings, they had inherited the swift, cat-like movements of their parents, and they knew the layout well. They side-stepped the small rock pools that pitted the landscape, and the pink and white flowers disguising the dangers of sinking sands. They belonged here among the purple heather and the timeless tranquillity of the moors. As they moved through the small wood towards the cottage, they noticed from the corner of their eye, a streak of red keeping pace.

Biddy stood waiting by the open door. It was no surprise to them that she knew they were coming.

   “Welcome my princess and young lord,” she poured them glasses of elderflower cordial. “You have come to ask about the others, your shadow selves?”

They looked at her in amazement, and she took this time to study the small differences between them and the others. Both sets of eyes were oval and without the slight tilt of the elfin, and their accents were different.

   “They look almost exactly like you.” Biddy answered their unasked question. “Now you must go home at once, it is no longer safe for you here. The Nightflyers have been abroad these past few nights.”

The Nightflyers are the enormous, bat-like creatures the Erebans use to fly. Like their masters they are dark, vicious creatures and trained to fight. Cattle disappear without trace, scooped from the land by huge claws, to be feasted on by teeth sharper than blades. Their wingspan is said to spread over twenty-five feet.

   “They have been out spreading their poison,” Biddy said. “They have traveled farther than usual and return only with the coming of dawn. They are making ready for war, there is no doubt about it.”

Shadow Self- chapter thirty-five

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 31, 2020
Posted in: birdsong, hope faith God whispers heaven, books, castles, changelings, Dwarfs, Eerie Places, elves, enemies, Fairies, Fantasy, fiction, folklore, Goblins, Gothic, prince, princess, revenge, scary, strange worlds, teenagers, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Corey and Juliet walked through the trees. They were both anxious to reach Biddy’s cottage.

The morning air was cold and the flickering light from the fire was a welcoming sight, as they walked up to the front door. Biddy opened it before they had the chance to knock.

   “I have been waiting for you,” she stood aside to let them in. “I made some tea and there’s cake if you’re hungry.”

They both asked for tea and cupped their hands around the mugs, glad of the warmth of the tea.  

   “You’ll be anxious to hear what I’ve learned,” she said after a moment’s silence.

They nodded and waited.

   “After I left you yesterday, I went in to the hidden world.”

   “I thought you were going up to the castle?” Corey said.

   “I was, the entrance to the hidden world is beneath the castle,” Biddy said. “I know what you’re thinking: that I’m a mad old woman who has nothing better to do than fill your heads with my nonsense.”

She held up a hand to still their protests. “It’s all right; I don’t blame you but tell me this. Is it madness to recognise reality? Anyway, I will explain what I can about the hidden world and let you decide for yourselves. The king gave me permission to tell you some of the facts; the rest is up to him.”

She spent the next hour or so telling them about the hidden world. They listened in awe as she described a place, they had heard about in fairy tales. Images of Bargamore, Claradon Faranord and the Ereban Forest swam in their heads, as they tried to envision the places she spoke of. Biddy’s gift for storytelling is unsurpassed, and her descriptions filled them with wonder.

   “I know it’s hard to take all this in,” she said. “You are modern children who know nothing beyond television and computers. Here, in this barren place, we are content to live alongside all sorts of creatures be they elf, fairy or even the dead. Though you might not want to believe it, the mortal and fairy world are entangled and interwoven more than you realise.”

   “When you say time slows down,” Corey asked. “What do you mean exactly?”

   “The Elfin can live for hundreds of years. It was rare for one of their race to die young until…” she let the words trail off.

   “Until what?” Juliet urged. “What were you going to say?”

   “The king will explain all that. It is not for me to speak of such things and its best you hear it from him.

Juliet felt beneath the table for Corey’s hand. Were the things the old woman saying true, they both wondered and if so, why did what seem wonderful a moment ago, now fills them with something akin to dread?

   “Aye,” Biddy said. “You feel it too. There’s something not right in the hidden world and I know the Erebans are plotting.”

 Before either of them could ask how she knew this, Biddy continued.

   “The Erebans are dreadful creatures. Well, you’ve seen that for yourself,” she nodded at Corey. “They are not just fearsome to behold, but they have great powers of darkness. Erebans are our boogiemen and there is not a child in the hidden world that does not fear them. No one is sure where they come from. No one has ever seen the Ereban young. Perhaps, they sprout from the earth like dark spores and do not come to life until mature. No one knows, but they are strange, savage beings. They poison the mind with terrible thoughts and eat away at the soul. Some have taken their own life and others they turn in to raving lunatics. They have the power to strip away man’s dreams and hopes and as the elfin say, once these are gone, there is nothing left. They have stay quiet up to now, but there is something in the air, a gathering of energy. I’ve sensed it over the past few weeks and it’s getting stronger.”

   “What do we do next?” Juliet tried to repress a shudder.

   “We wait,” Biddy said. “There’s nothing else we can do. Go back to your dig. Word will be sent when the time comes. I’ll come and fetch you when the king is ready.”

Corey and Juliet could not wait to be alone to talk about everything, but they didn’t want to leave the warmth of the kitchen. They were safe in the cottage. It cocooned them with its strange scent of herbs and though this was just their second visit, it was familiar.

   “Run along now,” Biddy stood and started to collect the mugs. “I have work to do.”

   “What if something happens and you can’t get to us?” Corey asked.

   “Then you’ll hear the bells. The fairy bells ring out at times. I heard them on the night of my mother’s death. Even though they resented her marriage, they could not let her passing go unmarked. Listen for the bells. If you hear them, come and find me.”

   “What do they sound like?” Juliet asked.

   “You’ll remember them. The memory of their sweetness will return once you hear them.”

The sun was high in the sky and the air felt much warmer when they stepped outside. Tabby, who was basking in the warmth, came over and rubbed against them. She jumped up on the fence and watched as they walked towards the trees. The slight breeze ruffled her fur as she raised her head and sniffed the air. Her mistress was right, there was something wrong. She hissed, drawing her lips back over pointed teeth. Then a stray leaf floated by and she forgot, for a moment, her feeling of dread.

Shadow Self-chapter thirty-four

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 28, 2020
Posted in: birdsong, hope faith God whispers heaven, books, castles, changelings, Dwarfs, Eerie Places, elves, enemies, Fairies, Fantasy, fiction, folklore, gloom, Goblins, Gothic, hags, hidden worlds, Ireland's past, Irish folklore, kings, legend, magic, monsters, prince, princess, queens, revenge, scary, teenagers, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

   The day was fast becoming surreal for Amber and Sabba. After the meeting with Mr Thomas, they were left confused and a little scared. They thought about closing the offices and going home, but Pierce Nolan phoned to say he would be in that afternoon and he sounded irate. It did not take a genius to guess that the call from the archaeologist had upset him.

   “I am really bored,” Amber picked at her nails to hide the tears in her eyes.

   “Me too,” Sabba kept his head down and pretended to read.

Something strange was happening and they needed to be back in the hidden world. At lunchtime they were in no mood to eat, so took a walk along the village street.

   “Oh, nice one,” a boy came up to them and glared at Amber. “You got me to carry the lap top all the way here and you were coming yourself.”

He thrust the bag at her, as Amber shied back.

   “I am sorry, I do not know what you are talking about,” she looked from the boy to Sabba.

   “I charged it in the café,” he said. “But I’m not carrying it all the way back.”

   “Stand back,” Sabba ordered the boy.

The two boys stood face to face. Amber grabbed Sabba’s arm and pulled him away.

   “I know what is happening,” she whispered, as they stood waiting on the pavement.

The boy was watching them.

   “There has been a mistake,” Amber gave him her sweetest smile. “You are with the dig up at the castle, yes?”

   “I am,” the boy muttered.

   “We met your Mr Thomas this morning and he made the same mistake. I am Amber and this is Sabba. Look at us,” she urged.

The boy slipped the handle of the bag over his shoulder and walked closer to them.

   “I am told we are like people on your dig,” Amber said. “But we are not them, I assure you.”

   “Now that you come to mention it,” the boy narrowed his eyes. “There is a subtle difference. Wow, that is so weird,” he laughed and held out his hand to Sabba. “Sorry about that, I thought you were taking me for a fool.”

   “No problem,” Sabba shook his hand. “It is the second time today that has happened.”

   “I’m Steven. Juliet, the girl who looks like you,” he said to Amber. “She asked me to charge her laptop. She said she wasn’t coming into the village today and I thought she’d just used me to carry it.”

They stayed talking for a few more minutes before saying their goodbyes.

   “It’s uncanny,” Steven called after them. “Wait until you meet Juliet and Corey. You won’t believe your eyes.”

Neither of them spoke, as they made their way back to the office. Amber did not want to share her feeling of foreboding or tell him about the pain that was gnawing at her gut. The arrival of Pierce Hogan was a welcome distraction, as he floundered in the door in his usual state of fluster. He spent the next few minutes complaining about the call from Ger Thomas and the nerve of the man.

   “The sooner they knock that accursed place the better,” he raged.

   “Is the castle cursed?” Amber asked. “I would love to hear about that.”

   “I haven’t time to tell you about that now,” he tightened the knot in his tie. “I have to go and meet that Thomas fellow. Show willing if nothing else. I don’t want him reporting back to the historical society that I was unhelpful.”

   “Will you be back later?” Sabba asked.

   “No, you can lock up,” he rubbed his forehead. “All this upset is giving me one of my migraines.”

   “What do you make of that?” Sabba asked when he had gone. “I have never heard mention of a curse.”

   “Brag would have told us about it if there was one. You know how he loves to embellish all the folklore.”

   “What is the matter,” Sabba asked. “You are not upset by Hogan and his stupid story, are you?”

   “No, it is Juliet and Corey, our shadow selves. I cannot stop thinking about them and the reason they are here. We must call on Biddy and find out what she knows.”

Shadow Self-chapter thirty-three

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 26, 2020
Posted in: birdsong, hope faith God whispers heaven, books, castles, changelings, Dwarfs, Eerie Places, elves, enemies, Fairies, Fantasy, fiction, folklore, gloom, Goblins, Gothic, Gothic novel, hags, hidden worlds, Ireland's past, Irish folklore, kings, legend, magic, monsters, prince, princess, queens, revenge, strange worlds, teenagers, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

The steps leading down from the Ereban castle were steep and menacing. Through a series of different manoeuvres, which included jumping, sliding, and falling, Hack managed to reach the bottom. His breath came in small gasps as he ran through the trees, the branches tearing at his clothes. Dark beings that inhabited the forest, watched as he ran by, but did nothing to stop him. The cry to give chase had not yet gone out. The fairy lights still glimmered within the dark castle; he had a few minutes start before they realised, he was missing. He stopped when he reached the stream, and his heart leapt, when he realised there was no way across. Stones that the Ereban took in his stride, were too far apart for Hack’s little legs. He backed away as the water hags came out from beneath waves and began to climb up on to the bank. Their condition sickened him.  

   “Have no fear, little man,” one of the hags said. “We will help you to cross.”

   “Why would you do that?” Hack asked.

   “We are not here by choice,” she said. “We will help you to escape.”

Hack watched as the hags lay face down in the water making a bridge of their wasted bodies.

   “Hurry, little man,” the hag called. “Your pursuers will soon be here.”

Hack took a deep breath and ran across their backs. With every footfall he felt their bones beneath his feet. The wound in his back still bled profusely and the loss of blood was making him faint. He fell on to the ground when he reached the opposite side of the river.

   “You must get up, little man,” the hag urged.

   “I cannot,” Hack shook his head, trying to clear his vision.

   “You must, if they capture you, they will kill you.”

Hack shivered and tried to rise, but he was weak from loss of blood.

   “Poor little man,” the water hag climbed up and laid a wet, cold hand on his forehead. “You will soon be a prisoner like us.”

Hack’s eyes became hazy and he tried to focus on her.

   “If I had tears, I would cry,” the hag said. “For yours is the first warm touch I have felt in decades.”

They both jumped when the sound of the hunting horn sounded, and they knew Hack’s pursuers would soon be upon him. The fairies swooped down and tried to lift Hack to his feet, but this was beyond them. Even though there were thousands of them, the dwarf was heavy.

   “Go and tell Lord Fabien,” General Tromp ordered one of his soldiers. “We will stay and try to hold the Erebans back.”

“What news?” Lord Fabien asked when the fairy flew out from the trees.

   “The dwarf is free, majesty,” she said. “But he is injured and has fallen by the river. General Tromp and the others have stayed with him.”

Fabien cursed his decision at not informing those in the other lands. The elves were strong, and the slight figure of the dwarf would be easy for them to carry. It was too late now, and time was short. The howls of a dog stopped him in his musing, and he knew Berrin wished to make amends for his failure to stop the dwarf.

   “Go and bring him back,” Lord Fabien ordered.

Berrin reached the dwarf in seconds.

   “Climb,” the water hag urged Hack, grabbing him by the back of his shredded tabard and helping him on to the dog’s back.

Hack buried his fingers deep into the course hair and held on as tight as he could.

   “How could you do something so stupid?” Lord Fabien asked as the dog deposited the dwarf as his feet.

   “I wanted to find out what the secret about the princess and the young lord,” Hack gasped as the fairies tended to his wounds.

   “What nonsense,” Fabien laughed. “There is no secret and you will speak no more of this.”

   “I think there is, sire,” Hack said and despite his wounds the news reporter in him stirred.

   “I said there is not. Do you understand?”

   “But, sire,” Hack envisioned the screaming headlines. “Horror of Night in Ereban Castle.”

   “Not a word,” Fabien roared. “Or you will be banished.”

In the few seconds it took for him to shake the dirt from his tabard, the fairies had disappeared, and he was alone at the crossover. Feeling hard done by after his adventure and the order not to publish it, he sighed and picked up the note that cause all the upset.

   “Did you see the fairy’s face when the dwarf spoke about the secret?” Perius asked General Keyos.

   “Indeed, sire,” the general smiled. “The hags are right after all and there is still much to learn.”

   “Then let it begin,” Perius nodded. “I have waited centuries to take my rightful place as the ruler of the hidden world. Both mortal and elf will soon tremble at the mention of my name. I will teach them the true meaning of fear.”

Shadow Self-chapter thirty-two

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 25, 2020
Posted in: birdsong, hope faith God whispers heaven, castles, changelings, Dwarfs, Eerie Places, elves, enemies, Fairies, Fantasy, fiction, folklore, gloom, Goblins, Gothic, hidden worlds, Ireland's past, Irish folklore, kings, legend, magic, prince, princess, queens, revenge, teenagers, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: . Leave a comment

The stench of rotting meat roused Hack from a restless slumber. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. What he saw chilled him to the marrow and he blinked, hoping he was caught up in a nightmare. The barred windows, the foul-smelling straw and the white of bones with the blackness of rotten meat still clinging to them, were real. The cell was designed for a normal sized prisoner, so he could not look out though the window above his head. There was no sun, so he could not judge the time. He wiped his sleeve across his runny nose and looked up at the barred window. The land of the Erebans was a place of endless night.

Footsteps sounded again in the passageway, and jangling keys found the lock on his door. Hack stayed sitting among the straw as one of the giant Erebans approached and grabbed his shoulder. He tried not to scream, as the talons pierced the fabric of his tabard and hauled him to his feet.

   “Walk,” the command rumbled from deep within the Erebans throat.

Hacks legs were like jelly as he walked towards the door of the cell. The passageway was narrow but rose in towering height above his head. The floor stony and so uneven, he stumbled in the darkness. He felt along the walls, his fingers encountering the cotton wool softness of cobwebs. His foot knocked against stone and he realised they had come to a stair. The steps were so high and wide, he had to crawl on his hands and knees to get up them. The huge corridor of the castle was not as dark as the cells. He could make out the silhouettes of furniture and the giant figures that were Perius’s court.

   “Faster,” a talon poked into his back.

For the first time ever, the skin on his body split and he felt the warmth of his own blood. To his surprise, torches were lit in the great hall, and he saw in their light the black pathway he must walk to reach the throne. He kept his head down and stopped when he reached the steps.

   “Bow,” the sharp talon pierced the skin on his back again.

Hack bowed, and then crossed his legs as fear irritated his protesting bladder. His quaking legs were an obvious sign of his terror, the last thing he needed was to pee in his pants.

   “So, you are the dwarf who is privy to the King Karone’s secret.”

Hack put his head down even further until his chin was resting on his chest.

   “Answer me, dwarf.”

The growl sent shivers through Hack’s small body.

   “No, sire,” he mumbled. “I just print a small newspaper. I know nothing about the king’s secrets.”

   “What is this,” Perius stood and looked at the hags.

   “He lies, sire,” Lora said. “He is the one who carries the news throughout the hidden world.”

   “Is that so?”

Hack was lifted off his feet by the hair. He kicked and tried to struggle, but it was hopeless. What he dreaded happened, when he found that he was face to face with the terrifying leader of the Erebans, he wet himself.

   “I will ask you once again,” Perius sneered at his discomfort. “What do you know about the king’s secret?”

Despite his mortification and terror, Hack would not betray the king.

   “I know nothing, sire,” he said. “You have been misinformed. I am just a reporter of the daily news.”

   “Very well,” Perius threw him down on the ground. “We will see how much you have to say for yourself when Keyos is done with you.”

Keyos, Perius’s general, stepped out from the crowd. This man, this thing, was bigger than the others and the scars on his face were hideous.

   “Take him away and see to it that he talks,” Perius waved at the dwarf at his feet. “It should not take too long, if his actions here are anything to go by.”

Hack heard the laughter bubble all around him, and his cheeks flamed as the acidic fumes of his shame rose. His head ached, and he tasted the coppery blood from the wound in his mouth. He stumbled and fell.

   “Move, dwarf,” the command came from behind him.

He was a little dwarf in a land of giants, and no one cared about him. Something tickled his ear and he swiped at it, imagining it to be one of the countless spiders from the webs overhead.

   “We are here,” the tiny whisper said. “Make ready to run.”

Lord Fabien and his fairy court kept watch all through the night. They made their encampment on the borders of the Ereban forest, hoping the dwarf would return. Now, as the rays of the morning sun pierced the earth, they knew he could not, he was taken prisoner. Every tree and bush were lined with fairies.

   “We are ready to go on your word, sire,” Tromp, the king’s general said.

   “We have no other choice,” Fabien said. “We must at least try and get the dwarf out.”

At his signal, the fairies took to the air, each carrying a light-filled crystal. Those gathered in the great hall were unprepared for the brightness, as the fairies swooped among them. The Erebans cried out and shielded their eyes with the arms of their cloaks. Even the hags covered their faces as the light blinded them. No one noticed the dwarf who was running as fast as his unsteady feet would allow. The fairies disappeared as quickly as they had appeared, and it was then that Perius realised his small prisoner was missing.

   “Find him,” he roared. “He must not get away.”

He curled his fists into tight balls, his nails reefing his skin as he imagined what he would do to the dwarf when he caught him.

Shadow Self-chapter thirty-one

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 24, 2020
Posted in: birdsong, hope faith God whispers heaven, books, castles, changelings, Dwarfs, Eerie Places, elves, enemies, Fairies, Fantasy, fiction, folklore, gloom, Goblins, Gothic, hags, hidden worlds, Ireland's past, Irish folklore, kings, legend, magic, monsters, prince, princess, queens, revenge, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

On their second night at Culdoplin Castle, Corey did as Juliet asked. He waited until everyone was asleep and tip-toed over to her tent. It was weird being out alone in the darkness, and he jumped when an owl hooted its strange cry to the night. The sound was eerie and unsettling. He stopped for a moment and watched as it hovered like a white ghost over the field. Then swooping low, it took once more to the air with a small rodent between its claws.

   “Great, you’re here,” Juliet said, when he pulled back the tent flap.

   “Yeah, it took ages for the others to get off. Rob was telling ghost stories, and I think they were afraid to close their eyes,” Corey laughed.

   “There are worse things than ghosts,” Juliet hugged the top of her sleeping bag closer.

   “Tell me about it,” Corey sat down beside her. “I wonder how Biddy is getting on.”

   “It’s all a bit far-fetched, don’t you think?” Juliet asked. “I mean we’re in the twenty first century and yet we’re quite prepared to believe in elves and fairies.”

Corey frowned, and stared down at the ground sheet.

    “I’ve been thinking the same thing, but how else can you explain it?”

   “I don’t know,” Juliet shrugged. “We’ll have to see what Biddy says. I mean, if we see something with our own eyes then…” she let the words trail off.

Corey yawned, and its sound was contagious as within minutes, Juliet joined in and soon their eyes began to droop. The noises outside the tent unnerved them, as rabbits and other small creatures crept towards the camp, attracted by the light of the lanterns. Shadows crept across the canvas roof like silent, grey ghosts. The darkness seemed to ebb and flow around them, as though it had a life of its own. Somewhere out in the intense night a rabbit screamed, and a fox shook blood from its face.

   “We can open my sleeping bag and put it over us,” Juliet’s teeth chattered.

   Despite their fright they fell asleep in minutes, comforted by the warmth of each other’s body. When Juliet woke it was morning and the place where Corey slept was empty.

Mr Thomas, despite his best efforts, had not met with the councillor and had to go back to the village. He wanted to get the formalities out of the way before starting the dig. Steven and some of the others decided to accompany him and have a look round.

   “Will you take my laptop with you?” Juliet asked Steven. “The battery’s low and I need to speak to my mother.”

   “Why don’t you come with us?” He asked.

   “We have a lot of catching up to do,” Corey answered for her. “And we’ll give Miss Williams a hand with the clearing up.”

   “Whatever,” Steven shrugged, and waited as Juliet ran off to her tent.

   “Thanks,” she said, as she handed over the computer. “My mother’s not been feeling well and I’m a bit worried.”

   “No biggie,” he put the strap of the laptop bag over his shoulder.

The offices of councillor Pierce Hogan were as quiet as ever. Amber and Sabba sat doodling at their desks and waited for the phone to ring. Their parents refused to tell them why Biddy had come into the hidden world. They were anxious for the day to be over, so they could question her about it.

   “Hello,” a man came in.

   “Hello, how can we help you,” Amber gave him her most charming smile.

   “How did you change your clothes and get here before me. You said you were staying behind to help with the clearing up, and now I find you here. This is very odd if I didn’t know you better,” he looked at Amber. “I’d say you were spying for our Mr Hogan. You’d better explain yourself,” Mr Thomas’s mouth was a thin line of anger.

   “We have no idea what you are talking about,” Amber looked at Sabba to confirm this. “I am Amber, and this is Sabba. Who do you think we are?”

   “I don’t believe it,” he said. “I’ve heard everyone has a twin, but I’ve never seen it until now. I’m so sorry for the confusion,” he smiled. “I’m Ger Thomas. I am leading the archaeology dig at Culdoplin Castle. I have a couple, two cousins who are mirror images of you,” Mr Thomas shook his head in wonder. “Could you give me Hogan’s cell number?”

   “You mean they look a little like us?” Sabba asked, as he scribbled down the number.

   “No, you could be twins,” he studied the piece of paper in his hand. “I’ll just go outside and make the call.”

They watched him go and when the door slammed shut, they looked at one another.

   “It cannot be, can it?” Juliet asked.

   “The ones you call shadow self?” Sabba said. “But if that is the case, why here and why now?”

Life was growing stranger by the minute, and so was the terrible feeling of foreboding.

Shadow Self-chapter thirty

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 19, 2020
Posted in: birdsong, hope faith God whispers heaven, books, castles, changelings, Dwarfs, Eerie Places, elves, enemies, Fairies, Fantasy, fiction, folklore, Goblins, Gothic, hags, hidden worlds, Ireland's past, Irish folklore, kings, legend, magic, prince, princess, queens, revenge, scary, teenagers, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Biddy was breathless from the climb and in no mood for the stares from the brightly coloured elfin women.

   “Are you unwell,” the captain asked, as they paused outside a silver panelled door.

   “No, I am quite all right,” Biddy assured him. “Just a bit winded from the climb.

Biddy looked straight ahead as he led her towards the king and queen. She had heard of Queen Heather’s beauty in her mother’s stories, but to see her in the flesh was something else. Her red waist-length hair glowed like fire and put the room’s beautiful surroundings to shame. Her skin was pale with a touch of rose in each cheek, but her eyes were the most startling thing of all. Bright green, they sparkled with life, but there was something else too, a haunted look that marred the light within. It was the queen who spoke first.

   “Get our guest a chair,” she ordered one of the guards.

Biddy nodded her thanks, as she sat down on a soft cushion.

   “A drink, perhaps?” The queen suggested.

   “Thank you, your majesty.” Biddy accepted.

A small table was placed beside her chair and she was handed a silver goblet filled with wine as red as the queen’s hair. She sipped, expecting a sour taste. To her surprise the drink was sweet and warm with a hint of berries.

   “It has been quite a journey for you,” the queen smiled.

   “It has indeed, your majesty,” Biddy tried to ignore the king’s frown, and concentrated on his wife. “I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t think it urgent.”

   “Tell us what is so urgent that you should dare cross the boundary into our world?” The king’s eyes were hard when he spoke.

   “I wouldn’t be here now if I didn’t think it necessary, and the boundary is of your choosing.”

   “It was not an easy choice,” the king’s eyes flashed. “We did not abandon the upper world lightly. Your mother had filled your head with stories that do not mirror the truth.”

   “My mother taught me facts,” Biddy said. “She told me that you chose to go in to hiding.”

   “Chose,” the king’s laughed. “We had little choice. Let me explain to you, old woman. In ancient times fairies, elves and dwarfs lived in harmony with mortals. Their worlds remained separate, but they respected one another’s boundaries. It is your so-called modern world that sent us in to hiding. We became creatures of mirth to you mortals, to be trapped for the price of a pot of gold. We are creatures of light and air. Can you imagine what it is like for us to spend our life below ground? We belong in the forest, beside streams and in silent hollows, but modern man will not allow that. He tears down the trees and sends not only the fairy folk, but the animals in to hiding.”

   “My dear,” the queen interrupted. “Our guest came here for a reason.”

Biddy spent the next few minutes telling them about Juliet and Corey. Lady Blackthorn drew closer to where she sat when she mentioned her son.

   “Is he well?” She asked.

   “Corey?” Biddy smiled. “He’s a fine boy and the image of your young lord.”

   “The girl, Juliet?” The queen got up from her throne and walked down to join her friend.

   “She is beautiful, majesty,” Biddy assured her. “She is like you in many ways.”

The queen and Lady Blackthorn hugged one another.

   “So, you have guessed?” Galten asked.

   “At first, their looks fooled me,” Biddy said. “Then I realised my mistake. My mother told me about the sickness that weakened the elfin.”

   “We had no choice,” the queen’s eyes shone with tears. “It was a sacrifice that we had to make.”

   “I understand that, majesty,” Biddy said. “It was a very brave thing to do.”

   “Well, now that you know our secret,” the king said. “What is it you want from us; gold to buy your silence?”

   “I want nothing from you,” Biddy stood up. “I came here to warn you, that’s all.”

   “Warn us,” the queen put a restraining hand on Biddy’s arm. “Please sit down. My husband forgets his manners. You speak of a warning,” the queen knelt down beside her. “Are the children in danger?”

   “Grave danger, majesty,” Biddy said.

She told them Corey’s story about the Ereban, and the fairy dog that came to his rescue.

   “I knew they were plotting something,” the king said. “They will spread their venom about the changelings, and make it appear that we have been fooling our people for all these years.”

   “But the people will not believe them. We can explain why we had to do it,” the queen said.

   “The Erebans are powerful, majesty,” Galten said. “They can steal into the minds of those who would believe, and plant seeds that would flourish into poison thoughts.”

   “We have known enemies in the past,” the king said. “We can deal with them.”

   “That may be, majesty,” Galten agreed. “But never before have they been armed with such tools. If the elfin believe them, the Erebans could take over the hidden world.”

   “We cannot allow that to happen,” the king said. “We must strike before they do.”

   “The only way to do this is to tell your people what was done to save their race,” Galten said. “But first you must tell your children, both changeling and elfin and hope they understand.”

Shadow Self-chapter twenty-nine

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 17, 2020
Posted in: birdsong, hope faith God whispers heaven, books, castles, changelings, Dwarfs, Eerie Places, elves, enemies, Fairies, Fantasy, fiction, folklore, Goblins, Gothic, hags, hidden worlds, Ireland's past, Irish folklore, kings, legend, magic, monsters, prince, princess, queens, revenge, strange worlds, teenagers, thoughts, twlight, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

It was easy to understand why the Crossover had got its name. The boundary: the line dividing the Ereban forest from the other lands, is like comparing day to night. The dark shadow of the trees falls across the road, and not even the air vents cast any light into that dark place. Hack stopped and listened for a moment. There was nothing other than the sound of birds and the rustling in the bushes, as creatures foraged for food. Still, he could not afford to take a chance, so he moved on tip toe, wincing as his shoes made small crunching noises. A shadow fell across his path and blocked the light. Two enormous paws appeared, and he traced the shape upwards until he came face to face with blazing, red eyes. Beast and dwarf stood face to face for a moment until Hack sighed and said.

    “I am here on the king’s business, so you must let me pass.”

The fairy dog moved its giant head from side to side studying the small figure before him and gnashed its pointed teeth. It growled and shook its head. The dogs are the only creatures in the hidden world that have no voice. A smack from the dog’s paw sent him sprawling down on to the ground, and it was this same paw that held him in place. Other large shapes moved around him, and he heard the growls of the other dogs. I know what they are doing, Hack thought, they are sending word to Lord Fabien to see if what I said is true.

   “Listen,” Hack gasped when the others had run off. “I am finding it hard to breath with your paw on my chest. Let me up. I promise not to move.”

The dog’s face descended until he was staring into the red eyes again, but the pressure on his chest lifted. Hack stood and shook the dust from his tabard.

   “There was no need for that,” his said, as he felt along his ribs and glared at the dog.

It growled and went back to its grooming, all the while keeping an eye on the dwarf. Despite its great size, Hack mused, it is still a dog.

Hack let his eyes roam along the hedgerows. The dog cocked his ears, as he saw the dwarf pick up a stick from out of a tangle of branches. Its interest was piqued now, and it watched as the dwarf stripped away some of the dead leaves.

   “It is a nice stick, is it not?” Hack made a move, pretending to throw, and the dog arched its back ready to follow.

. Hack stood up on his toes and threw as hard as his small arms allowed. The stick sailed over the hedges and the shape of the fairy dog passed over his head, like as dark cloud as it followed. Hack ran, his feet hardly touching the ground, as he headed for the forest. The ground shook as the dog, realising he had been duped, took off after him.  

   “Not so big now, are you doggie?” He laughed from the shadow of the trees. “Wait until all your furry friends hear how the big fairy dog was outwitted by a dwarf.”

Hack knew the dog could not cross over the boundary, not unless ordered to do so by its master.

   “That is right,” Hack said, as the hair on the dog’s back rose. “Growl all you want. See if I care.”

    The Ereban forest is a dark and fearsome place and though Hack knew this, the need to prove himself overcame his fear. No one understood what it was like to be a dwarf in a world of elves and fairies. The elves are known for their beauty and magic. The fairies, whose colours glistened brighter than jewels, make him feel like nothing special. They would have to sit up and take notice when he solved the mystery of the princess and Lord Sabba.

   The fairy dog started to bark; the sound resounding like the clanging of hundreds of church bells. 

   “Stop it, stupid dog,” Hack shouted, but his voice went unheard above the noise of the barking.

The sound made his head swim and the ground went from beneath him. He opened his eyes as the trees swept past him in a dark flash. He blinked and tried to struggle free from whatever held him. A resounding slap on the top of his head stunned him.

   “Stay still, dwarf,” the voice rumbled like thunder.

Hack felt tears prick his eyes, and he shook his head to clear his vision. He was carried through the trees; his body dangling under the arm of an Ereban. His captor picked him up from behind, so Hack was lying sideways and able to see around him, as they moved deeper into the forest.

   “Please…” his plea earned him another slap on the head, and he thought it wiser to keep quiet.

He had never seen an Ereban up close before. In the past, their dark shapes were the things children whispered about, but no one ever expected to see one, except in a nightmare. The arm around his waist was hard, as though made solely of bone. The stench from its body was nauseating. It smelt sickly-sweet like fresh cut earth or blood. No, worse, Hack thought, it smells of decay. It moved quickly, the weight of its burden did nothing to slow it down.

They crossed large streams, the Ereban leaping from stone to stone. Hack saw the hideous shapes that sat along the banks. Women, or things that might once have been so, clambered from the water to get a better look. Their bodies wasted to the point of emaciation, ribs sticking through skin that seemed too thin to hold back the bones advance. All had long, white hair that grew in a tangle of confusion and when they noticed his searching eyes, they used this to cover their nakedness. Their faces were long, the mouth and nose quite normal, but the eyes were the most terrifying. They were oblong and covered over two thirds of the face. Hack felt his resolve falter as he saw reflected in each of the huge orbs a hopelessness he could never have imagined. He knew he was witnessing what the mortals spoke of as Hell.

Shadow Self-chapter twenty-eight

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 14, 2020
Posted in: birdsong, hope faith God whispers heaven, castles, changelings, Dwarfs, Eerie Places, elves, enemies, Fairies, Fantasy, fiction, folklore, Goblins, Gothic, hags, hidden worlds, Ireland's past, Irish folklore, kings, legend, magic, monsters, prince, princess, queens, revenge, strange worlds, teenagers, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Hack pushed his way through the legs of the elfin that assembled outside the castle. He was so busy with the next edition of his newspaper; he had not heard about the old woman’s arrival. It was when the streets emptied and he realised how quiet it had grown, that he stepped outside his house.

 There was no one about, so he went inside and got his notebook. Something was happening and he did not want to miss it. He ran as fast as his legs would allow. It was obvious from the crowd standing around the castle that something momentous had occurred.

   “What is happening?” He looked up at the nearest elf. “Why are you all here?”

   “We are waiting for news about the new sport.” everyone had grown tired of Hack’s interfering, and no one wanted to answer any of his questions.

   “What sport?” Hack flipped open his notebook.

   “The day of the flying dwarf.”

   “What, I do not understand,” Hack frowned.

   “It is like this,” the elf bent down so they were almost nose to nose. “If a dwarf asked too many stupid questions, then we pick him up and throw him from the castle battlements to see how far he can fly. Would you like to be the first?”

   “Fine,” Hack’s plump cheeks turned red. “I will find out what is going on one way or the other.”

   “You do that,” the elf turned away.

No one would tell him anything, so he went home. He was thinking how unfair it was and how freedom of the press meant nothing. The note pinned to his door stopped his grumbling.

   “What’s this now?” He pulled the paper free of the pin and opened it.

   Hack

   If you want to find out what is going on meet me by the crossover now. There is a lot being hidden from you, and I admire the way you seek out the truth. What I have learned will make everyone in The Hidden World realise what a wonderful reporter you are.

A friend

At last, Hack smiled, someone who appreciates my work. Then he felt the first prickles of fear running down his back. The crossover was the border between Claradon and the Ereban forest. No one ever went there. No, Hack shook his doubt away. He was a daring reporter and his job required that he should place himself in danger.

Perius, the leader of the Erebans, sat on his throne and looked at those assembled. The only light came from a few candles scattered around the huge hall. These were for the hags, who cannot see in the dark. The Ereban world is a place of infinite darkness. The great hall hung with spider webs, their silvery gossamer the only relief against the shadowy walls. Perius liked to watch the spiders are work, it appealed to his sense of the macabre, to watch their occupants decided the death of their prey. The spiders are cruel killers, paralysing each captive until the time is right and then sucking out the blood. He sneered, noting the dead husks in the webs.

   “What have you learned?” He turned his dark eyes on the hags.

   “We have seen much, sire,” Lora, the eldest of the hags answered. “Even now one draws close who will tell us more.”

The Ereban hags see things in the same way that Galten does, but to do so they must use blood. The most powerful blood is that of the innocent, and they harvest it by sneaking into the rooms of sleeping children and pricking their fingers. A pin prick is such a small wound. Should an elfin or dwarf child wake complaining of such, it was easily waved away as a splinter or scratch from a thorn by their parents.

   “We are closer now to learning the truth,” the hag said, hoping to appease him. “The elfin are powerful and hide their secrets well.”

   “They are not so powerful that they cannot be killed,” Perius sneered. “Already they tremble with fear because of one mortal, and he alone is doing more to aid my cause than any of you.”

   “But, sire,” the hag wrung her hands. “There is someone on the way that should tell us all we need to know. He is a dwarf, and he will be with us shortly.”

   “A dwarf,” Perius roared with laughter. “A dwarf, why not a fairy or a little bird?”

   “He is not like the other dwarfs,” the hag said. “He knows most of the elfin secrets.”

   “There is only one secret I care about,” Perius said. “And if I had the ability to walk the land during daylight hours, I would find the answer for myself. I am surrounded by fools,” he glared at each one in turn.

   “No, sire,” Lora begged. “We will soon have the answer for you. We will learn everything you wish to know about the children and even…” she paused for effect. “The reason there is a mortal woman in the castle at Bargamore as we speak.”

   “A mortal, here in the hidden world?”

   “Yes, sire, a mortal woman who was summoned to speak to the king.”

Perius smiled, drawing his lips over his shape teeth.

   “Then it is as I suspected. The elfin grow weaker; the power of their magic is fading.”

Shadow Self-chapter twenty-seven

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 13, 2020
Posted in: birdsong, hope faith God whispers heaven, books, castles, changelings, Dwarfs, Eerie Places, elves, enemies, Fairies, Fantasy, fiction, folklore, gloom, Goblins, Gothic, hags, hidden worlds, Ireland's past, Irish folklore, kings, magic, monsters, prince, princess, queens, strange worlds, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Biddy paused to catch her breath and looked up at the grey sky. The clouds were so low and swollen with rain they seemed within arm’s reach. It was many years since she had last attempted the climb to the castle, and she had forgotten how steep it was. She sat down on a large rock and looked up at the jutting towers of the dark silhouette above her head. The last time she entered the world of the Elfin she had been with her mother. Even then the reception they received was not a good one. Her mother left the elfin world a day before her eighteenth birthday. Biddy knew the aging process for the elfin slowed at their coming of age Still, her mother’s decision to leave did not altogether save her from the heartache to come. She aged much slower than her husband, and that was her curse for marrying a mortal. Her mother did die as the headstone proclaimed in her hundred and twelfth year. She might have lived longer if the death of her husband had not broken her heart. Being half elfin meant that Biddy, like her mother, would age much slower than her father. Today, she felt all her hundred and three years, as she sat mopping her brow.

 The entrance to the world below is on the north side of the castle. This area never gets much sun and since mortals love the light as much as the elfin, they tend to shy away from this shadowy place. Everything was done to discourage the curious. Gnarled, twisted trees line the steep hill; wild brambles grow between the trunks, ready to tear at the clothing of any intruder. At the summit, six huge stones, weathered by time, stand like rheumatic fingers, the hands raised to repel any intruders who dared approach. These silent sentinels are the last thing one encounters before reaching the ivy-covered entrance to the cave.

      Biddy was panting when she reached the summit, and she leaned against one of the huge rocks. In the distance, the ocean looked like a black line against the greyness of the day. The air was still, too still. Despite the great height of the hill, there was no whistling of wind, and no cawing from the crows in the walls of the castle. It seemed that nature itself was holding its breath in anticipation of what would happen when she pulled aside the curtain of ivy. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped into the cave. It was cold here, and she stood for a moment to let the cool air wash over her. The only sound came from the slow dripping of water. With shuffling feet, she descended deeper into the darkness. To steady herself, she kept one hand on the wall of the cave. The rocks were slimy, and she shivered in revulsion, as her fingers encountered the softness of moss. Her heart pounded against her ribs and her breathing echoed off the listening walls. She could not remember how long it took to reach the fairy world. She kept going, her process slow as the ground beneath her sloped further, until her feet went from under her. One moment she was feeling in front of her with the toe of her boot, the next she went sprawling down on to the dusty ground, as her foot encountered nothing but air. At this precise moment the alarm bells sounded, and a small light appeared in the darkness. Its glow was bright enough for her to see the sharp spear pointed at her face and the angry, glaring eyes of its owner.

   “Go back, mortal,” the dwarf said. “You have no right to be here.”

Biddy stood up and shook the dirt from her skirt.

   “I said, go back,” the dwarf jabbed the point of the spear at her. “You will not get much further mortal. Help is on the way.”

   “Don’t you remember me, Roak?” Biddy asked. “I am Petals daughter.”

Roak, the Guardian of the Cave, held the lamp higher and squinted up at her.

   “I came here with my mother many years ago to visit with my grandparents,” Biddy said, as the thundering began in the darkness.

She leaned against the wall of the cave as the knights appeared. A line of archers, their bows raised, ready to strike, surrounded her. Beyond them, dozens of dwarves toddled with shields held high and spears ready for battle. She read the question in the elfin eyes as they met, not with the army of mortals they had imagined, but an old woman, cowering against the rocks.

   “She says she is Petals daughter,” Roak said, to one of the elfin.

   “You have no business here,” one of the knights said. “Turn around mortal or feel the sting of my arrow.”

   “I have no intention of turning around,” Biddy said. “I am half elfin and I demand to see the king.”

   “You cannot make such demands,” he laughed. “You have no rights here.”

   “I demand in the memory of my mother,” Biddy knew the elfin law well.

Though her mother was exiled from her people, she still had to right to return once in every decade to visit her loved ones.

   “Send a message to the king. Tell him I am here to speak for those who are called the shadow self.”

The knight whispered something to the elf beside him that sent him running back into the darkness. They waited in silence, until the soldier returned and whispered the king’s answer.

   “It would seem that the king wishes to see you,” the knight said. “Follow us.”

Biddy followed, praying she would not lose her footing again.   It was a relief when the dot of light appeared. She had to shield her eyes as they moved into the brightness and beauty of the world beneath the earth. Up ahead the castle of Bargamore glowed against the earthen sky, and she bit her lip when she saw the number of steps she needed to climb. As though reading her mind, the knight called over his shoulder.

   “I will assist you in the climb, ancient one.

   “Really,” Biddy huffed. “You’re probably older than I am, so less of the ancient one, if you please.”

   “You may well be right,” he turned and smiled at her.

Biddy felt her cheeks flames as her stomach did somersaults, I am a silly old fool, she thought, but it had to be said, the elfin men were beautiful.