Читать книгу Inside Out: A Pagan Tale for the Child Within - Heather Brunton - Страница 10

Maisey watched him go with great reluctance. Only when he was completely out of sight did she begin her quest. Squeezing between the rocks she pulled herself through the darkness to a damp cave. A glow opposite marked where a trail wound upward and seemed to be the only way to go, other than from where she had entered. The sound of dripping water broke the silence as she let her eyes adjust to the dimness of the cavern.

Water ran down the moss covered walls to land in puddles on the rock floor. As well as the dripping, Maisey could hear a faint scuffling. Proceeding toward the sound she got down on her hands and knees and felt the floor in the darkness. The scuffling sound seemed to be nearer and crawling she edged cautiously toward it. Her head hit something sharp and she had to use her hands to try to work out what it was. She felt along the lower wall of the cavern but with nowhere else to go she sat back on her haunches and listened. There it was again, the scuffling, though now she felt as if she were right on top of it. There were no apertures in the rock walls and as her eyes grew further accustomed to the darkness she carefully ran her hands along the floor. Ah. There was a small gap, merely a crack in the earth where the floor met the wall and as her hands felt out its circumference she found a thin mossy vine that grew from the wall and down into the crack. She pulled it upward and it seemed heavy to her hand, where she had expected it to come away easily. Then slowly she pulled it right up and out of the hole. Something was caught on the end and she almost tossed it back down but remaining calm, she broke it off the wall and holding it away from her, crawled back to the light of the larger cavern. It looked like a ball of wet mud as she held it out but a slight movement made her jump quickly back. As it dropped to the floor it unrolled. Cautiously she nudged it, at which it groaned and rolled over revealing itself to be a small mouse covered in mud. Her fear was gone, and she lifted its tiny body and cradled it to her.

In the light, Maisey made out puncture marks encrusted with blood that covered the partly conscious creature. Pulling out her hanky, she cleaned dirt and blood from the mouse’s face and at her ministrations it opened its eyes. Languid green, they seemed to reach down into Maisey’s body and tug at her heart strings.

‘What happened to you?’ she asked.

‘I was attacked by Doubt soldiers. I escaped and ran in here to hide but I didn’t see the crack until I was falling and lucky for me there was a vine to break my fall. I thought I was history till you found me. Thank you.’ He smiled gratefully. ‘My name’s Noil, what’s your name?’

‘Maisey.’

‘What are you doing here?’

She explained her quest to find the Rock while she fed him biscuit crumbs from her pocket.

‘Maybe I can help you in your quest,’ said Noil. ‘You see, I’ve been stuck in this land for quite some time and know its ways.’

‘How did you get here?’ asked Maisey.

‘The land where I come from is called Fortitude. Everyone that lives there must, at my age, travel here in order to find themselves before they may return and dwell in peace.’

‘How do you find yourself?’ asked Maisey.

‘I’m not really sure but others have done so but the way is secret to the uninitiated. So you see, I’m stuck here till I find out what it is.’

Maisey was thoughtful. Rendal had said that this was her journey when she had wanted him to come with her. Surely, having a mouse along was an altogether different thing. So she asked the question before she thought about it for too long.

‘Would you like to come along with me?’

‘I’d love to,’ said Noil and the girl knew within her heart that she had made the right choice.

After Noil recovered he rode high in the girl’s sweatshirt pocket, his head poking out. The first break to the winding trail came when the path was blocked by a solid wooden door. Pausing before it, Maisey felt apprehension wash over her but turned the handle, pushing hard to move the rusty hinges that held it. Her heart slowed its frantic pace as she encountered another straight trail that seemed more like a corridor stretching ahead. Linoleum below her feet gave squeaks as she walked. The walls were painted white, reflecting the overhead fluorescent lighting which created a hospital feel. Reaching another door, the girl pushed and it swung back easily.

The smell of disinfectant bit hard into her memory and with great reluctance she ventured into the sterile room. A small child sat huddled in the corner, knees drawn up, arms hugging them as her body shook with sobs.

‘This is the Hall of Despair,’ said Noil.

‘Makes sense,’ replied Maisey as she touched the child on the head, though the child, who seemed unaware of their presence, broke out in a fresh bout of crying.

‘Leave her,’ said Noil.

Windows gave a view of a room beyond and walking to its door, Maisey entered and flicked on a switch to light the interior. A bed lay in the centre of the room, upon which lay a still figure. Machines hummed with wires that ran from them to the unconscious form. Gazing at the figure Maisey was shocked to see that it was her own mother.

The beating of the machines stopped and a nurse entered the room from a corridor beyond. Seeing the flat line of the machine she called for a doctor and arriving a second later, he checked for a pulse. Finding none, he wrote on a chart while the nurse unhooked the machines and pulled a sheet over the body.

‘Don’t do that,’ Maisey called as the pair left the room. ‘She’s not dead.’ She tried in vain to move the sheet. In confusion she turned, pressing her face to the window and let out a pained cry. It felt like despair was pulling her down as Noil’s voice broke in.

‘Look! Look at the child.’

The child raised her head to wipe at her swollen tearstreaked face.

‘It’s me,’ said Maisey. ‘But how can it be?’

‘Let’s go, please,’ begged Noil. ‘You can’t gain anything by staying here. You must pass through it.’

Maisey felt dizzy and weak. Noil’s voice seemed to come from far away. Climbing from her pocket he reached around to where the mirror rested and grasping it, hauled it back up to the sweatshirt pocket where he balanced it, clear side facing Maisey. For a second it seemed to have little effect then with a jolt she asked, ‘What happened?’

‘You might say that your past thoughts and fears caught up with you. I used the mirror to stop them from dragging you down. See, they’re gone.’ Looking around the room which was now empty, she saw that he was right. ‘Nothing more than sinister shadows created in despair,’ said Noil. ‘These rooms have held your fears, either imagined or real and you have to pass through them to rid them from your life. Remember your goal? To find the Rock.’

‘He passed the mirror back to Maisey and settled back into her pocket with a sigh of relief.

Following the path the doctor had taken, they continued their journey though now the trail had reverted to a tunnellike passage that wound ever steeper. With barely enough light to see, the dampness was replaced by humidity that made progress difficult.

‘Let’s rest,’ said Maisey.

‘I’ve been here before and it’s not a good place to stop. Soon we should come out into a cavern that is cool. It’s not much further,’ said Noil.

Tiredness dragged heavily on Maisey but Noil urged her on. He leapt down from her pocket and rushed ahead, urging her on faster but she felt helpless to comply. Her legs grew heavier and her mood was confusing. She felt herself sink into a lethargy that was all consuming, its roots based around Noil’s seeming lack of sympathy to what she was going through. As he ran ahead then back, she felt an overwhelming irritation and self-pity until she could contain it no longer and stopped to lean against the rock wall.

‘I’m too tired!’ she snapped. ‘I don’t care. I’m gonna rest and that’s that!’

To her surprise though, Noil merely shook his head in disgust. ‘You do, but I’m going on ahead.’ With that, he turned and hurried off around a bend in the tunnel, leaving Maisey alone with her thoughts.

How dare he? Doesn’t he realise what I’ve been through?

She couldn’t understand his attitude and gave up trying, turning her thoughts to all the worry that she had gone through over her mother’s illness.

After a time Maisey couldn’t hear the echo of Noil’s steps any longer and she rose and decided to move on. She’d shown him that she wasn’t to be pushed around and now she hoped that he would stop it. She looked about her with a little caution as she rounded the bend, remembering Noil’s agitation, but here it was beautiful.

To her right was the continuing tunnel and to the left a light-filled illuminated path that gave promise of the rest spot that Noil had spoken of, so here she paused. Vines grew down the wall to the side of it, beneath which was written something. Maisey cleared away the crawling moss and other offshoots to read ‘Ms Dé’.

Upon entering this passage Maisey felt her feet cushioned by something. In fact the entire tunnel was encased in silken threads, woven expertly around to form a beautiful archway and as she progressed further in, she felt safe and secure. She could see that ahead was a room and as she approached it a shrill voice called to her.

‘Come in my dear. I’ve been expecting you.’

The speaker was a little sweet-faced woman with jet black hair flecked here and there with grey. She sat spinning slowly and contentedly pausing now to beckon the girl to enter and be seated beside her.

Entranced, Maisey moved to her side. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

‘Spinning,’ came the reply. ‘Sit down and tell me all about yourself.’

Maisey did as she was told but a part of her wondered at her own meekness, her willingness to comply. Yet as she sunk down into the silken folds of a white beanbag, another part of her felt compelled to unburden herself. She began. The lady said little, content to listen, occasionally nodding while her fingers worked expertly over the thread. Maisey’s eyes rested on the wheel and the whirring had a hypnotic effect on her as she poured out her fears. It was a relief to tell someone, someone who was sympathetic, and she felt herself slipping further into the soft silk that now rose all around her.

With a start Maisey opened her eyes and wondered where she was. She was lying down encased in something and a great feeling of claustrophobia washed over her. Slowly she remembered Ms Dé and their conversation, the spinning wheel and now this!

Panic seized her as she struggled to free her arms from the tight folds of silken thread that cocooned her. Wriggling around she finally managed to free one arm. She used it to pull herself up and around to where she could see the lady herself, still spinning much farther away down a narrow tunnel of silk. Terror threatened to overcome her as she grappled with her bonds but she could barely move them and she felt that if the old lady kept spinning, she would suffocate.

Stay calm. Remember your gifts. It was Rendal’s voice as he guided her but as she thought of the gifts she had she knew that the only one she could reach was the mirror, so now she used her free hand to pull it awkwardly out of her pocket. She stared long and hard at her reflection but nothing changed. She moved it around to reflect the light from the opening ahead. And then she saw it. What could only have come from her worst nightmare. She had to stop herself from crying out. To cry out would have been to startle the insect. What she had recognised as the lady now appeared through the mirror as a huge black spider, the bulbous black sheen of the lower body pumping out silken web while the long hairy legs wove them into a pod that would soon encase her. Maisey tore her gaze away in shock, unwilling to lay eyes on what was one of her worst fears; spiders. But one this large was more than she could comprehend and she felt that she may faint from terror.

Look again! came Rendal’s voice but the girl thought that if she did, she would surely pass out or scream. You must confront this, he continued you must look past the terror and see the truth for once.

Slowly she calmed herself and when she again felt able, held the mirror up with a trembling hand to gaze upon the spider. A shudder ran through her but she heard his voice. Look past the fear.

And she did. For as she let her eyes travel past the weaving hulk down to where the thread pumped out, its silk spun and turned and glistened wetly. With the rhythm, Maisey’s attention was absorbed and her own bitter words played back at her. Within their echo she felt and saw that most of it was illusion for in fact, most of her fears had not materialised. Just illusive lies she had woven in her mind to encase and entrap her in self pity.

With that realisation she found herself standing back outside the den. She wanted only to run but something made her wipe away the rest of the vines that sat around the nameplate and she saw what she had missed on her arrival: Ms Dé Lusion.

With new haste she made her way along the right-hand tunnel to find Noil. Rounding the bend she looked about her in delight. Before her was a cavern out of which leapt a cool spring that bubbled into a small pond. A shaft in the cavern’s ceiling let in a single beam of sunlight. Noil leapt up from a flat rock and plunged headfirst into the pool. Maisey waited for him to come up for air. Finally he bobbed up. ‘Come on chicken,’ he called while swimming backstroke around the fountain. She smiled at him. The less said about her stupidity the better. Besides, the smile he returned her, spoke volumes about the extent of his understanding. Somehow he knew what she had been through and was big enough not to chide her.

She stepped sedately down into the water while Noil jeered at her timidity.

‘I don’t want to make a wave that will drown you,’ she laughed, letting the water lap over her tired body. ‘This must run from the well that Rendal showed me. He said it came out in Id but not where.’ Maisey hoped her clothes would dry out in the sunlight but as she left the water she was amazed at the feel of them. The water seemed to roll off her body and clothing like water hitting oil. It reminded her of the ducks she had watched when she was a child. How fascinated she’d been to see the water run easily from their feathers.

She lay down on a flat rock directly beneath the beam of sunlight. She felt stronger than she’d done in a long while and with strength came certainty of her ability to find the Rock. Noil continued to splash about and Maisey soon became restless. She sat up and looked in the mirror. Her hair was a mess and she attempted to comb it with her fingers but gave up finally.

Noil watched her and chatted happily. ‘Do you know what this place is called?’

‘I’m sure you’ll tell me.’ Maisey was as surprised as Noil to hear the sarcasm in her tone.

‘It’s called the Pool of Pride,’ he said, choosing to ignore her mood.

‘Why’s it called that?’ she asked.

‘Dunno,’ he said. Then after a second added, ‘We should get a move on soon.’

‘When I’m ready,’ she snapped.

How she wished she had a comb now, as she looked at her reflection once again in the mirror. Her face paled and she felt suddenly very ill. The mirror’s depths swirled and she could have sworn she saw Rendal’s reflection staring back at her. His voice seemed to echo at her from a distance.

Look in the mirror with care, for what is reflected at you is what you reflect outwards.

She let the mirror fall. Noil had joined her on the rock and she turned to him now and picked him up.

‘You’re right. I’m sorry I snapped.’

‘That’s okay.’ He leapt up to her shoulder and they continued the journey.