Tales From The Wyrd Museum 3: The Fatal Strand Page 22

  Again the machine ran out of tape and the button clicked off.

  Rising from the seat, the ghost hunter hurried across the room and looked out on to the landing. He shone the flashlight into the darkness, but there was no one out there, and he quickly pointed the beam down the stairwell.

  Tn the name of God, can I help you?' he called to the emptiness below. ‘I only want to help—you know that.'

  But no answer came and, after several minutes, the old man returned to The Tiring Salon to finish his coffee for the cold was unbearable. Picking up his cup once more, he raised it to his lips, then spluttered and spat out the contents.

  'Freezing!' he cried.

  With the torch trembling in his hand, Mr Pickering left the table and wandered through the room, hastening towards the other doorways. Crouching before them, he inspected the ghost strings he had stretched across the entrances. The cords were snapped and lying in brittle, rigid strands upon the ground, like raw and shattered spaghetti.

  Taking a fragment of the broken string in his fingers, he examined it, muttering in disbelief, 'Frozen solid. How on earth...?'

  His breath escaping in great clouds from his mouth, the old man rose and his brow knotted with concern. 'There's got to be a reason,' he said. 'But what?'

  ***

  Edie Dorkins huddled into her grubby coat, the cold of the blanketing fog which swamped her permeating right into the marrow of her bones. Hanging about her shoulders, her hair was wet and limp, and dewdrops of moisture dangled from her small, pointed nose.

  Seated astride the majestic stag, she pushed deeper into the confounding grey nothingness around them. In that colourless void, the girl could see only the beast's silver antlers glimmering before her. When she turned her head, her eyes ached as they searched the mist, so now she concentrated on the way ahead and held tightly on to her steed's neck.

  Into her lungs the dampness seeped and Edie coughed, burying her face into the collar of her coat as she wondered how far they had journeyed. Then, very slowly, the obliterating fog was diluted. Vague images of trees could be glimpsed on either side and, from somewhere in front, she heard the muted chattering of Gogus.

  'Gotta be nearly there,' she told herself.

  The mist became thinner, shredding and parting until only flimsy, floating skeins were snagged within the twisted twigs of the surrounding wood. From that shadowy realm the milk-white stag emerged and, leaning forward, glad that the choking vapour had been left behind, Edie peered between its antlers.

  A beautiful, cloudless summer's night was upon the forest, filling the hollows with deep, midnight blues and, still leading the way, she saw the squat, bow-legged figure of Gogus. Trundling happily along, the pixie hood waving in its tail, the wooden carving glanced back and nodded frenetically, pointing with its claws through the trees ahead.

  Lifting her gaze, Edie followed the imp's excited directions and clapped her hands in wonder. There, through the breaking trees, was a wide clearing where the figures of three women stood waiting for them.

  Rearing its head, the stag lowed a bass greeting which Edie could feel trembling through its immense frame. In answer, the tallest of the three figures raised a hand in welcome.

  Gogus hopped from the last vestige of the screening wood, lingering upon the grassy slopes beyond until Edie and her mount were also free of the trees. High on the stag's back, Edie Dorkins opened her eyes wide in marvelling amazement.

  Fringed by the dark, fog-filled forest, they were standing upon a gently dipping, bowl-shaped bank. Moonlight and starfire danced in the air and, over the calm, still surface of the wide pool which filled the centre of that great open space, the myriad lights glittered and shone.

  Yet over that sparkling water, rising high into the crystal night and straddling the breadth of the clearing, was a colossal shape. Casting its delicious shade across the encircling woodland was a vast, arching bulk, like the fallen trunk of a gigantic, impossible ash tree.

  'Nirinel,' Edie mouthed.

  Here, then, was the last surviving root of Yggdrasill, as it had been in the first ages of the world, before time and drought had withered its supreme form. Mightier in every respect did this earlier incarnation appear to the young girl's worshipping eyes. The diseased and rotting mass she had seen in the underground chamber of The Wyrd Museum, which staled the air with sweet stagnation and putrid decay, was but a wraith of its former splendour. That future aspect of this heavenly spectacle was black and blighted, with bark flaking from its ulcerous, atrophied size in wasted, withered cankers.

  But the consummate creation which towered over that paradise was unsurpassed in its vigour and sylvan beauty. The smooth rind of its callow bark shimmered with a pale light of its own, and across its broad, spanning length, green, glowing shoots were clothed in a lush, verdant foliage.

  An intoxicating abundance of perfumed blossom and fragrant flowers infused the clean, sumptuous air with their heady scents and Edie inhaled it greedily.

  The idyllic place revived and restored her. In that blessed glade, where the immortals dwelt, she could feel the forces of vibrant life pulsing and quickening in her own blood. The young girl was aware of the movement in every leaf, of the sap coursing through each stem, even the slow increase of the stretching grasses. Yet uppermost in her thoughts and perceptions, impressing itself absolutely above all else, was the constant surge of divine existence which flourished throughout the incredible length and girth of Nirinel.

  It would have taken a lifetime for Edie to grow bored with that peerless sight, but a cheering voice was calling her and she forced herself to look away.

  'Edith,' came the warm, hailing cry. 'We have waited long for you.'

  Dressed in simple, flowing robes, the three women beckoned to her and, down upon the sloping ground, Gogus bowed until its snout was buried in the grass.

  'Norn... Norn...' he growled reverently.

  With a dignified gait, the regal stag held its head high and began to saunter around the edge of the pool.

  Chuckling in elation, Edie stared at the figures as they drew close. Just like Nirinel, so too were they the younger versions of the Webster sisters.

  Clad in a garment of the deepest black was a youthful Miss Ursula—Urdr, as she was known in that time. The silvery-white curls which Edie knew had been replaced with chestnut tresses, covered by a filmy, web-patterned veil, bound upon her head by a circlet of gold.

  The woman possessed all of her later elegance. The delicate modelling of the features was the same, but the stern lines, so bitterly etched into that older face, were nowhere to be found in this smiling countenance.

  Only a controlled determination and resolve could be discerned in her lovely eyes, and when she put out her hand to the stag's velvety muzzle, the creature sank to its knees in obeisance before her.

  'We thank you, Durath,' she said, and the amber jewels of the stag's eyes burned adoringly at her.

  At Urdr's side, the one clad in a modest gown of plain red cloth stepped forward and held out her hands to help the child down.

  'Come, daughter,' Skuld beamed, but with none of the toothy grin that would one day be hers. 'My joy at your visit is the greatest. Let me aid you.'

  With her strong arms the woman lifted Edie from the stag's back and set her upon the grass. Laughing, the child stared up at the figure who would one day turn into Celandine. Surely that ruddy, wrinkled face which always resembled a goofy walnut could never have been this striking and beautiful woman. Only the braids which dangled down her back gave Edie any clue. But instead of scorched corn, this maiden's hair was the colour of the spring sun on early flowers, and the starlight that brimmed in the clearing was caught and meshed within its brilliant lustre.

  'There is so much I want to show and share with you, my little one,' she sighed, clasping her arms about the girl in an aching embrace. ‘I thought you would never get here.'

  Squeezed tightly, Edie threw her arms about Skuld's neck, then looked over her shoulder
to where the third sister stood.

  Hanging back from the others, shy of the great stag, was the loveliest of all the daughters of Askar. She appeared just as Edie remembered her upon

  Glastonbury Tor. A slender, white-robed woman with eyes of a delicate, cornflower blue, set in an ivory complexion. Pulling away from Skuld, the child walked haltingly over to her.

  'Veronica!' she cried, her eyes stinging with the tears that threatened to appear. 'Veronica!'

  The youngest of the Fates shook her head gravely and the locks of her long, raven-black hair rippled behind her. 'I am Verdandi,' she corrected in a gentle voice.

  Sobbing, Edie threw herself into the woman's arms and hugged her desperately. Watching them, a look of disapproval appeared on Urdr's face.

  'Edith!' she called. 'You must not bring your grief with you into this place. That is for the future alone to hear.'

  The girl sniffed and dragged her sleeve across her nose as she untangled herself from Verdandi's arms.

  'You do understand?' Urdr asked. 'This is a different age, where there are sorrows enough without you fetching in the burden of others as yet untold.'

  Swallowing the uncomfortable lump in her throat, Edie nodded but clasped Verdandi's hand and gripped it earnestly. 'I won't say nothin',' she promised.

  Urdr smiled then returned her attention to the stag that was still kneeling upon the ground. 'Arise, Durath. What would we do without you to guard us?'

  Kissing Verdandi's hand, Edie left her side as the Lord of the Wild Wood snorted and reared up, its antlers gleaming in the night like forks of frozen lightning.

  'Twice he done saved me now,' the girl declared as she stroked the powerful flanks.

  'Durath is one of the four sentinels of Nirinel,' Urdr told her. 'The noblest blood that ever flowed courses through his veins and those of his three brothers. Long before the city of Askar was built about the World Tree, they were here, guarding and waiting. It was they who took the Loom from the palace courtyard, and they who led we three from the battle with the Frost Giants when our mother was slain.'

  Gazing up into the beast's golden eyes she rested her head against its neck and the stag breathed gently upon her. 'In your time, Edith,' she began softly, 'the four guardians have been dead for many years. But Durath will always return when called upon, to protect Nirinel and those who tend it.'

  'Were it Gogus what called him?' the girl asked.

  Pricking its ears up at the mention of its name, the imp came scampering through Durath's legs. 'Gogus... Gogus...'it jabbered.

  'It was,' Urdr replied, stooping to pat the carving's head. 'You know how the Loom of Destiny came to be created, don't you, Edith?'

  The girl laced her fingers behind her back and rocked on her toes as if preparing to recite a lesson at school. 'Frost Giant chopped a branch off the World Tree,' she proclaimed. 'The Loom was made out of it.'

  'Just so,' Urdr assented, removing the pixie hood from the imp's tail and placing it back on the child's head. 'Yet from the same timbers of that bough our mother, the queen, commanded the woodwrights of Askar to fashion a figure within the decoration of the Loom. When it was complete, she spoke words of enchantment over it.'

  'So Gogus is part of the Loom!' the girl cried.

  'It is the Paedagogus,' Urdr instructed her. 'Our tutor; it was the wood urchin who taught us how to string the Loom of Destiny and weave the mists to keep out our enemies. It is the slave and spirit of the tapestry, our companion—the Fates' familiar.'

  Hearing this, the imp danced dementedly around them, with its claws in the air and yammering at the top of its gurgling voice. 'Gogus... Loom... Gogus... Spin ... Gogus... Gogus... Gogus...!'

  Capering up to each of the sisters, the carving took their hands and whirled a wild jig about them, tumbling over the grass and leaping into the air until it stood before Urdr once more and made another deep bow.

  'There will come a time,' Urdr said, and now her voice was grave and solemn, 'a point of torment and conflict, when the last surviving remnant of Yggdrasill and those who tend it face their direst threat and peril. In that hour the Paedagogus will come forth to give what aid it may. This the Queen of Askar foretold.'

  'That's why it kept turnin' up!' the girl exclaimed. 'It were warnin' us about that Tick-Tock. It tried to stop us goin' through the doors. It knew what was behind 'em. Clever Gogus!'

  Still doubled over in the low bow, the carving humbly wrung its claws and gave a bashful gurgle.

  Urdr inclined her head. 'Yes,' she agreed. 'The prophecy tells us that the Paedagogus shall be the saving of us. At the final hour it is the wood urchin who will defeat the lords of the ice and dark, though all that we hold dear may lie in ruin about it.'

  Gogus hid its large face in the hooked claws and gabbled to itself in embarrassment.

  'But that is yet many, many ages hence from this blessed time,' Urdr said. 'Come, Edith, the moment you have yearned for, since you first heard of its existence, has arrived at last. Let us show to you that which chains us all to this place, the harp upon which the tune of our lives is played, wherein all our fates and fortunes are strung—the Loom of Destiny.'

  With Gogus leading them, Urdr and her sisters turned to skirt around the edge of the pool. Unable to stop the grins flashing across her face, Edie followed. Over the grassy banks they made their way, while Skuld told the girl of the eagles which roosted high upon Nirinel's curving summit, and of the undine who dwelt in the deep regions of the sacred spring.

  Devouring each word, Edie listened voraciously, but although the magnitude of the last root reared in grandeur before her, the child's eyes were drawn more often to the silent figure of Verdandi who walked beside them.

  Gogus scampered into the luminous shade which shone beneath the immense, bridging structure, barking eagerly, and Edie soon noticed that a different light was flickering ahead. As they rounded Nirinel's obscuring bulk, a livid emerald and silver gleam welled up to flood out over the flower-freckled sward.

  Upon Edie's head, the tinsel strands knitted into her pixie hood crackled with white flame in response. Seeing the girl's excitement, Skuld put her arms about her shoulders.

  'It's the light of the tapestry which shines,' she told her. 'When we reach it, you shall see an ever-moving vision of life and loveliness. The tale of the world thus far is woven into its fabric. The Cloth of Doom is a ravishing, ensnaring sight, Edith.'

  Her heart in her mouth, Edie Dorkins bit her lip as they traversed the remaining distance. The captivating rays were brighter now and, where she walked, the land was steeped in their resplendent beams. The grass beneath her feet glowed with a scintillating viridity and the nearby water was like a vessel of turquoise glass through which a beryl sun was bursting.

  Not far now, Gogus was already somersaulting impatiently in front, its stunted form caught in the fulminating glare. Holding her breath, Edie stepped forward and raised her eyes as the glory of the Loom blasted upon her.

  The sight was blinding. Throwing her hand to her face, the girl squinted, glimpsing only a vague, tall shape. Then, before her vision could adjust and without warning, the ground shook under her.

  At once Gogus growled and sprang back along the bank, yapping fearfully. A tremendous bellow erupted across the pool and Edie whirled around.

  'What's happening?' Skuld cried. 'Urdr!'

  Again the earth shuddered and the surface of the water was whipped into foam-capped waves which rode up the grassy slopes and sloshed over Edie's feet.

  'Durath!' Urdr shouted. 'Look—Durath!'

  All eyes turned to the stag at the far side of the clearing, and each caught her breath at what she saw. Rearing up on its hind legs, the largest of the four guardians of Nirinel pawed the empty air, as though attempting to fend off some invisible threat. Hideous, baying shrieks trumpeted from its jaws, and even at that distance they could see its golden eyes blazing and rolling in terror.

  'He is in pain!' Verdandi yelled. 'We are attacked!'

&n
bsp; 'We must go to him!' Urdr called, running over the bank. 'Quickly, my sisters. Hurry, Edith!'

  The beast's terrible cries were shrill with fear. When its mighty hooves pounded the ground, even the immeasurable height of Nirinel quivered, and the birds who nested over its huge dimensions sent up a distressed screeching. Yet, in the midst of that discord, above the dreadful call of the tormented stag, Edie could hear the dull chiming of metal upon stone.

  Splashing through the crashing waves, the girl could see that Gogus had already reached Durath and was darting under the trouncing hooves, yammering and barking, trying to calm the beast. But the stag could not be appeased and tossed its great, silver-crowned head, recoiling as though unseen forces struck and battered against it.

  Into this horrible scene Urdr and her sisters ran, and they too raised their hands to calm the God of the forest. Over the buckling slopes the suffering creature stumbled, kicking its legs in the air as it whinnied and screamed.

  The Fates were powerless to help, and Durath blundered into them, driven down the bank by the hidden, hammering blows.

  'How can this be?' Skuld wept. 'Who can do this?'

  'Is it Jack?' Edie wailed. 'Is it him?'

  Above her, the stag's face was streaked with panic, and agonised tears poured from the blazing eyes which flicked hopelessly from side to side. 'Help him!' Edie shouted, staring up into that tortured visage.

  Trying to avoid the heedless, shielding kicks, Urdr dashed forward. But in the anguish of its madness,

  Durath threw her down and the antlers raked and tore the turbulent night.

  The ominous, ringing clangs were louder now and the discordant, metallic din drowned out the high, skirling cries. Rolling from under the glancing hooves, Urdr rounded upon Edie and gripped her arms urgently.

  'Something awful is happening in your time, Edith!' she told her. 'This danger—it comes from the museum. Return at once. Whatever it is must be stopped. Quickly—before it is too late! For Durath's sake!'