Winds That Will Be — Aedan's Journal
"Darkness and Stars"
Aedan's Journal. Pre-Game Session. 5-11-00.
© 2000 Todd Worrell
The three stone steps were behind me. Ahead of me, and stretching up to the silvery city in the clouds, a phantom stairwell soared. I strode up and up. Glancing back, I saw Kolvir rapidly dwindling. Each step I took seemed to propel me twenty feet from her summit. I felt Gabriel's presence in my mind as a scent, earthy with a hint of flowers. He was keeping the Trump link open, but his attention wasn't complete.
After a short while the stairs began to meander, and the route resembled the carriage path near the Castle. Tir na-Nog'th gained shape before me. It was much clearer than I had expected, and I could easily discern individual stones in the castle wall. I pushed open the main gate and entered the courtyard.
It was empty. All around me a silvery silence hung in the air. I was warm from my climb and regretted wearing such a heavily quilted jacket. I thought about passing it through the link to Gabriel, but decided that I should keep it in case the air got colder.
I walked quickly into the castle proper. All the rooms were empty. I climbed the Grand Stair and made my way toward the Throne Room. It too was empty. Where were the ghosts of Tir? Everyone I had spoken with about this place mentioned them. They were supposed to linger at the edge of your vision, then disappear when viewed head on. They murmured hints and prophecies.
Maybe they had the night off.
As I pushed the door to the Throne room open, I heard it creak—the first sounds I had heard up here. The room itself was empty, with the two thrones on the raised dais where I expected them to be. When I stepped into the room, my feet made a gritty, crunching noise. Looking down, I saw gray leaves. I picked one up and felt it. It felt real. I gathered several leaves from the floor and put them in my pouch.
I scanned the room more carefully. It wasn't exactly like the room in Amber. The curtains were frayed and swaying in the breeze. The door to the King's Staging Corridor was open slightly. I crossed swiftly to it and peered in. The hallway beyond was pitch black. That was odd. No one had mentioned dark halls in Tir. The passage beyond smelled faintly of mouse fur. I opened the door and walked swiftly down the hall, my left hand brushing the far wall.
At one point, the stones grew noticeably warmer. I stopped and felt again. A line of faint yellow light escaped from between two stones. Kneeling to examine it, I saw that the light outlined three sides of what appeared to be a child-sized door. It appeared to open by sliding to one side. From someplace close beyond the door, something giggled. I made out two voices. The yellow light vanished. Curious, I tucked my fingers into the crack and slid it open.
"Shhhhh…" I heard. I hunched over and walked as best I could down the small dark corridor.
"Gabriel," I whispered, "pass me the lantern."
He did, and I saw a branching of small corridors before me. At the juncture, I saw a bottle and two glasses. My lamplight reflected off a small puddle in front of the glasses.
I scurried forward and peered at the puddle. It appeared to be hot wax, probably candle drippings. I grasped the bottle and glasses and passed them through to Gabriel. As I did so, I heard the telltale sounds of rapidly receding footsteps from the corridor to my left. I hurried down it toward the noise.
"Wait!" I called. It was clear to me that my passage was much slower than that of my hidden visitors. They didn't heed my call, and soon I heard the creaking of a door. Then, I heard the sound of screws tightening. Their escape was effected.
"Do you think he's gone?" a small voice said.
"I don't think he even saw us." They giggled and I recognized their kind. The Fey were in Tir Na-Nog'th.
I turned and made my way back toward the man-sized hallway.
As I got closer to the small door, I heard the sounds of many people. Pausing before leaving my hiding place, I heard what sounded like servants preparing for some event. There were at least a dozen voices, possibly two dozen, all urgently whispering. I crawled out of the small tunnel and stood up.
The hallway was full. People stopped talking and turned to look at me. Several hurried over and tugged at my sleeves. They spoke to me, telling me to hurry, that I wasn't supposed to be here, that I was needed. They pulled me toward the Throne Room and took the lantern from my hands. A spectre opened the door and I stepped slowly through.
The room was full of masked people now, laughing and dancing to music. On the King's throne sat a masked woman dressed in a black gown edged in silver. Crescent moons adorned her short sleeves. Her mask was made of pale moon-colored feathers. I recognized her.
She was my mother.
I stared at her, trying to remember. The upper half of her face was hidden behind the mask, but her mouth and chin were visible. My heart began to race. She turned her head and regarded me expectantly.
"I seem to have lost my mask," I ventured.
At that she smiled at me, and her lips were suddenly a deep blood red. She raised her hands level with her face and clapped twice. The music stopped and everyone turned to look at us. Deirdre, or her ghost, addressed the crowd.
"I brought you here to introduce my son, Aedan." She stood gracefully. Two large phantoms moved behind her protectively. I crossed the room, my heart in my throat, and took my mother's outstretched hand in my own.
I could feel the flesh of her hand, the bones beneath the skin and muscle. Her grip was firm. She felt real. Behind me the people applauded and cheered, their voices getting softer and softer.
"Mother?" I whispered. She smiled again and inclined her head.
"Where are you?" I asked. The party noises continued to fade until we were alone with the silence.
"This is a place of dreams."
"Are you a dream?"
"This place is better than the Abyss," she said, ignoring my question.
"Mother, are you a dream?" I held both her hands, savoring the sensation. My face was only inches from hers. I felt her warm breath on my face.
"I have something for you." Deirdre removed her right hand from my grasp and brought it to the top of her mask. I held my breath. She curled her fingers slowly around the top edge of the feathers, and drew her hand toward me. Her mask came off in her hand, and her face became darkness and stars across a great distance. My hold on her hand slipped. I fell forward into the heavy black night.
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