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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-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-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 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.

Shadow self-chapter twenty-six

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 12, 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, scary, strange worlds, teenagers, wise women, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Biddy felt her hackles rising; something was wrong. The youngsters were not as talkative or as boisterous as usual, but she put their strange mood down to the greyness of the sky. Elfin, like mortals are creatures of light, and the overhanging clouds tend to put a damper on them. Still, Tabby had known them for years and she reacted in such a way to strangers.

   “Sit down,” Biddy said. “I have to feed the chickens. There is cake in the larder and there’s apple juice if you are thirsty. You know where it is,” she picked up a small basin full of rind and bits of stale bread.

The excuse of feeding the chickens was a ruse, so she could get her thoughts in order. As she scattered the food, she wondered what made the cat react in such a way.

   “I’m getting old,” she sighed. “There’s no other explanation. I am losing my powers. It worries me when the cat recognises before I do, that something is wrong.”

Biddy has the gift of second sight, as she was the offspring of an elfin mother and mortal father. Her eyes brighten. Of course, that is what’s wrong with the youngsters.

Corey and Juliet were sitting side by side whispering when she opened the cottage door. They jumped apart and sit up straight in their chairs as she approached.

   “Not hungry?” She looked down at the empty table.

   “We are a bit,” Corey said. “But we thought we’d wait for you.”

   “That was thoughtful,” Biddy eased her aching bones into a chair. “Be a good boy and fetch the cake for me.”

He looked in confusion at the three doors lining the room

   “Sit down,” Biddy said. “I’ll fetch it myself.”

They sat in silence, as she uncovered the fruit cake and poured the juice in to three glasses.

   “Go on, eat,” she said. “It won’t poison you.”

Breaking off a large piece of the cake, she popped it into her mouth. Corey picked up his slice and bit it.

   “It’s delicious,” he said as his teeth sank into sweet fruits and bits of nuts.

   “It is,” Juliet agreed.

   “Good,” Biddy drank from her goblet. “Now that we have established that, perhaps you’d care to tell me who you are?”

   “Yeah, sorry about that,” Corey blushed. “We didn’t mean to try and fool you. “It’s just that we’re here looking for answers and since you seemed to recognise us…” his voice trailed off. “Perhaps, if we told you our stories, you would understand,” he said. “Juliet and I met for the first time yesterday, but something drew us together. Will you listen to what we have to say?”

   “I’m listening,” Biddy said.

For the next hour they shared their stories about their life and the strange things they both had seen.

   “It was the one word that brought us together,” Corey said. “Culdoplin, I’ve heard that name whispered in my dreams and so has Juliet.”

Juliet told her about her shadow self, the girl who looked exactly like here.

   “I’ve never seen anyone who looked like me, but I saw the monster dog and the Thing,” Corey added.

   “What are you talking about child?” Biddy interrupted.

   Corey told her about the alley and the things he had seen.

   “A fairy dog sent to protect you,” Biddy nodded.

   “It looked more like a monster,” Corey said. “It scared me to death.”

   “They’re big, but harmless to the innocent. I could never keep a dog because of them. They see the fairy dogs running wild and take off after them never to return.”

   “So, you believe in the fairies?” Juliet asked.

   “I am part elfin, my mother married a mortal,” Biddy said. “The Thing you saw was an Ereban.”

   “What’s an Ereban?” Juliet asked.

   “Keep your voice down, child,” Biddy shushed her. “The skies are overcast and there’s no telling where they might be. Erebans are the worst part of ourselves, be we elf or mortal,” Biddy said. “They are born of our worst traits and thrive on fear and chaos. They roam the world by night. That is when they are their strongest. They creep through the cracks in our minds and spread their venom in nightmares.”

Juliet shivered and moved her chair closer to Corey.

   “Why would one of them come after me?” Corey asked.

   “It’s never been known before, but there is something stirring and it’s not just you who needs answers.” Biddy stood. “It’s time to go, there’s work to be done.”

   “But you haven’t told us anything,” Juliet said.

   “I’ll walk to castle with you,” Biddy said. “There is someone I must consult. Come back in the morning. I might have answers for you then.”

   “Will you come over to my tent when the others are asleep?” Juliet asked Corey when Biddy left them.

   “No problem,” he said. “I doubt if I will sleep tonight.”

It was not a night for being alone, when they knew the truth about the Things roaming the darkness.

Shadow Self- chapter twenty-five

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 11, 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, strange worlds, teenagers, thoughts, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

The sky was beginning to cloud over as Corey and Juliet made their way across the fields. Their destination was the small wood that stood like a dark silhouette among the limestone rocks. The morning had been so promising, but the sky began to darken, and they felt the first drops of rain on their faces.

   “Run,” Corey took Juliet’s hand.

The wood was much bigger than imagined, and the trees huddled so close together, they gave shelter from the rain.

   “It’s pelting down,” Juliet wiped the drops from her face.

   “Yeah, but it’s dry in here,” Corey said.

   “Should we go in further?” Juliet looked into the darkness.

   “Why not,” Corey shrugged. “It’s only trees.”

They walked along a well-trod path that wound through the wood. It was not as threatening as Juliet thought, and nice to be there among the silence of the trees.

   “It must go on for miles,” she gasped.

   “I don’t think so,” Corey said.

   “I see something,” Juliet called. “Right up ahead, it’s getting brighter.”

The wind was whipping up, causing the trees to sway in some crazy dance.

   “There’s some sort of building over there,” Corey pointed to a gap between the trees.

   “Let’s make a run for it,” Juliet said. “We can ask for shelter there.”

It was the ruins of an old church. Hidden by yew trees and overgrown bushes, the only thing still standing was the steeple over the porch.

   “It could be worse,” Corey said. “At least we’ll be out of the rain.”

The rusted gate groaned as he opened it, the hinges frozen from misuse. The path was uneven and weeds, growing through the cracks, made it slippery and dangerous.

   “Don’t fall whatever you do,” Corey warned. “I’ll never be able to carry you all the way back.”

   “Are you saying I’m fat?” Juliet studied the ground and chose her footing with care.

They huddled in the porch until the rain eased off, before stepping out to have a look around. At the side of the church there was a small graveyard.

   “Someone takes care of this place,” Corey said.

The graves were ancient, the markers leant left and right; as though trying to see beyond the large, stone effigies of angels.

   “There are flowers on this grave,” Juliet looked down at a posy of wildflowers. “Someone must be tending it.”

Corey knelt and read the faded inscription.

   James Finn born 1884 died 1956

   Petal Finn   born 1884 died 1997

   Beloved wife of James

   Reunited in death.

   “That doesn’t make sense,” Corey frowned. “If I’m correct, James died when he was seventy-two, but Petal lived to be a hundred and thirteen. The engraver must have got his dates mixed up.”

   “Come to pay the folks a visit,” the voice startled them. “It’s nice to see you still remember.”

Every child has read about witches and seen them in books and films, but to come face to face with one is something very strange and frightening. The old woman had long, silver hair and bright, all-seeing eyes, peered from beneath a hat of black wool. She wore layers of petticoats beneath an ankle length skirt, black old-fashioned lace up boots and a fringed shawl.

   “What’s the matter, my pets,” She smiled. “Did old Biddy give you a fright? I’ve been hearing stories about you two,” she shook a long, bony finger at them. “Been spending too much time in the mortal world, haven’t we?”

   “I don’t know what you mean,” Corey said.

   “There now, there’s no need to look so worried. Old Biddy’s not judging you in the least. I saw it coming long ago, and that Pierce Hogan has always had it in for your kind.”.

   “Who does she think we are?” Juliet whispered.

   “I don’t know,” Corey said. “But let’s play along and find out.”

   “Come along and you can tell me all about your adventures in the mortal world.” She gestured at them to follow her.

   “Come on,” Corey grabbed Juliet’s arm.

   “We’ll go back and have something to eat.” The old woman said. “It’s going to take some time for me to get used to seeing you in those clothes.”

   “Remember Hansel and Gretel; the witch fattened them up with sweet things?” Juliet whispered.

   “Listen, if she has a cauldron big enough for both us, I’ll be out of there in seconds,” Corey said.

The cottage lay hunched in a hollow. A few fat-looking chickens pecked at the ground in a small wire enclosure. Juliet caught Corey’s arm and nodded towards a window, where two, bright eyes watched.

   “She knows you’re coming,” Biddy laughed.

 The black cat purred and zigzagged between their legs demanding attention. Juliet sighed with relief and reached down to pat the soft fur, but the cat eyed her suspiciously and backed away.

Shadow Self-chapter twenty-four

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 10, 2020
Posted in: birdsong, hope faith God whispers heaven, books, castles, changelings, Dwarfs, Eerie Places, elves, Fairies, Fantasy, fiction, folklore, Goblins, Gothic, hags, hidden worlds, Ireland's past, Irish folklore, kings, prince, princess, queens, revenge, strange worlds, teenagers, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

Corey opened his eyes and looked up in confusion at the green, canvas roof above his head. It took him a moment to realise where he was, and the thundering noise around him nothing more than the snores of his companions. His first thought was of Juliet. The light was fading by the time they had put up the tents, and there was little time to speak, as they set up the encampment. Three of the boys insisted he share the tent with them, and it would have appeared churlish to refuse. There were two tents left over when they had finished pairing off, so Juliet and Miss Williams chose to sleep alone. The air was chill when he crawled out from the cloying interior of the tent.

   “Can I help?” He went over to the makeshift kitchen.

   “Great,” Miss Williams looked up from her frying. “Corey, isn’t it?”

   “That’s right,” he smiled.

   “If you could unpack the plates and mugs, that would be great,” she nodded at one of the rucksacks.

The dawn chorus began as they worked. Birds awoke and greeted the day the way they could, by offering their song to the heavens.  

   “Isn’t it wonderful?” Miss Williams whispered.

   “Yes,” Corey’s heart swelled; he was turning in to a girl, he thought, but it was hard to deny the beauty of the sound.

   “Oh, my aching bones,” Mr Thomas came crawling out from his small tent and stood stretching and arching his back. “I’m getting too old for this lark,” he laughed when he saw them watching them.

   “Nonsense, you’re still a young man,” Miss Williams said, and then blushed to the roots of her hair.

   “That was a bit lame,” she whispered to Corey, as Mr Thomas went ambling off. “You won’t mention it to the others, will you?”

    “No way,” he assured her.

   “I must seem rather desperate,” she wiped her eyes, pretending the smoke from the pans was blinding her.

   “It’s going to be ok,” Corey promised. “He’ll notice you soon.”

   “You think so?”

   “I promise, just don’t try so hard,” he said.

He went back to laying out the tin plates and mugs.

   “Are you ok?” Juliet came strolling over.

   “Yeah, you?” He smiled at her mane of tousled hair.

   “It took me forever to get to sleep,” she stretched and yawned. “I’m going to the stream to wash, coming?”

   “I wanted to talk to you last night, but I didn’t get the chance. I can’t stop thinking about our pendants.”

   “Same here,” Corey said. “Do you know how you got yours?”

   “My mother said it came from one of her friends, but she doesn’t remember who.”

   “I have no idea either,” Corey said. “My parents died long before I could ask them. I got it from their solicitor along with the deeds of the house and a few other things. I knew from the moment I saw it that it was something special.”

   “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Juliet agreed. “My mother gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday. She said I was old enough to take care of it then. I wonder if she sensed that it was important.”

   “Who knows,” Corey shrugged. “We should examine them when we get the chance. See if there are any similar markings.”

   “Good idea, we didn’t get a good look yesterday,” Juliet agreed.

   “Hey, you guys, wait up,” the rest of the camp was awake and following them armed with towels and tin basins.

   “It’s not going to be any time soon,” Corey muttered.

“I’ve been mulling it over,” Mr Thomas said over breakfast. “There are a number of things I need to do before we start digging. I must meet with a local councillor. He is the one who wants the castle knocked, so that should be pleasant! I also need you,” he looked at Steven, the oldest of the boys. “To explore the castle and surrounding ground to make sure it’s safe.”

   “No problem, sir,” Steven said.

   “You know what to look for,” Mr Thomas said. “Any sign of loose bricks etc.”

   “Got it,” Steven assured him.

   “The rest of you,” Mr Thomas looked around at the group. “Can have a day off to explore, but stay away from the castle until I say so, understood? Those of you, who feel up to it, can take a walk in to the village with me.”

   “We’ll have a nose around,” Juliet said “Corey and I have things to catch up on, family stuff. We’ll let you know if we find anything interesting, but don’t hold your breath.”

No one realised that despite the landscapes barren outlook, secrets were hidden under every rock, and mysteries waiting to be solved, but that would come later.

Shadow Self-chapter twenty-three

Posted by Gemma Mawdsley Blog on August 6, 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, prince, princess, queens, revenge, strange worlds, teenagers, wise women, Witchcraft, Witches, wizards, wonder, writers, writing, young adults. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , . Leave a comment

The meadow at the edge of Claradon is a training ground. Amber and Sabba stopped to watch as the young cubs jumped and climbed their way across the assault course. Their red coats gleamed with health and they seemed to move with winged feet, as they soared over the jumps. It was a magical sight, but the couple knew what they saw was vital to the fox’s survival. In the centre of the course, Flora, the most senior of all skulk, barked orders at the young cubs, as she ran them through their paces. Like the Elfin, she knew too well how important this training was. She pushed her pupils to the limit until the pads of the feet hurt and their tongues hung from their panting mouths. The cubs complained of this harsh treatment to their parents, but to no avail. They, unlike their children, knew the value of her teachings and how one day it could save their life. Flora was not a cruel animal, but she vowed, when she was first offered the job by Mr and Mrs Furze, that she would never lose one of her troops to the hands of a mortal. Her love for those in her care spurred her on, and the dreadful memory that woke her howling from her sleep, as the hunting horn sounded, and she was reminded of the death of her parents.

   “They look well,” Amber said, when the old fox ambled over to where they stood.

   “They are coming along, Princess,” Flora nodded. “I think they are the best I have ever trained.”

Amber and Sabba knew little other that what they heard about the use of foxes in battle. In olden days they served as mounts for the dwarfs during times of unrest, and were as strong and swift as any war horse.

   “We must go,” Sabba said.

   “Stay safe,” the fox bowed her head and ran back to where her charges had taken advantage of her absence.

The glare from the waterfall at the edge of the sacred lake was blinding. Tiny beads of light skimmed across the surface of the water and glistened like diamonds. The teenagers sank down and watched the different life forms that lived and worked around the lake. The fairies were the most prominent, as they flew in swarms collecting water to feed the thirsty flowers growing in abundance around the three lands. In the summer months geese and swans flew in from the mortal world and made their nests by the lake, secure in the knowledge that their young would be safe.

   “Hello,” Amber called to a small figure at the other side of the lake.

He stopped what he was doing and began toddling over as fast as his little legs allowed.

   “Princess,” his cheeks glowed from his exertions. “What a treat. Yes, indeed, and the young lord too.”

   “How are you, Brag?” Sabba motioned him to sit beside them.

   “I am wonderful,” he plonked himself down on the grass. “Thank you for asking and there is no need to ask how either of you are,” he smiled at Amber. “Our princess grows more beautiful by the day and as for you, young lord. Well, you have to be the handsomest elf in all of Bargamore.”

   “You are a rogue, Brag,” Amber laughed.

   “That well may be, my princess,” he smiled. “But I am an honest rogue.”

Of all the dwarfs in Claradon, Brag was their favourite. He was kind, gentle and a great storyteller. He regaled them with tales of past battles and legends of long ago, and they never tired of his stories. Brags job was one of the most important in all the three lands. He was the Watcher of the Wells. Since the time of the sickness, it became important to check the drinking water for signs of infection. He took samples every morning from the numerous wells that dotted the land and from the Sacred Lake, to make sure there was nothing there that could cause infection.

   “I have heard strange stories about you two,” he looked from Amber to Sabba. They say you are going up into the mortal world every day.”

   “It is true, I am afraid,” Amber sighed.

   “You know the risk you are taking, princess?” Brag was astounded by her candid reply.

   “I know, but there are reasons for our actions.”

   “Reasons, eh?” The dwarf raised his bushy eyebrows. “Very well, I will take your word for it.”

   “I have stiff competition today,” Amber looked towards the lake, where an elfin woman was gathering wildflowers.

   “Hello, Dawn,” Brag called.

The woman came over and bowed to Amber and Sabba. Her hair was the same colour as the princess’s.  

   “I trust you are well, princess?” Dawn asked.

   “Very well,” Amber smiled up at her. “How are your children?”

   “They are my greatest joy,” despite her words there was sadness behind Dawn’s smile.

   “I am pleased for you,” Amber felt uncomfortable under the woman’s searching gaze.

Dawn bid them good day and they watched as she made her way through the grass, her green gown billowing in the slight breeze.

   “She always seems so sad,” Amber said, “I do not like the way she stares at me.”

   “Her sadness is nothing more than a terrible longing to be back with her own kind.” Brag said.

He spoke without thinking and left Amber and Sabba puzzled by his words.