The Burning Man

6

From the ruins of the ancient watchtower stretched a pastoral landscape of fields and woods, winding lanes, sparkling streams and small hamlets where wisps of smoke drifted up from thatched homesteads.

‘I think I’ve been here before.’ Caitlin shielded her eyes from the glare of the morning sun. ‘Or was it a dream?’

After they had crossed over from the cathedral, Caitlin, Mallory and Sophie had taken a long time to come to terms with the delirious new world that had been presented to them. Every sight, sound and smell was heightened, rendering their own world a pale copy.

But Jerzy was insistent that they move on quickly, warning of the many dangers that lurked in the Far Lands. Stripping off his mask and coat, his true appearance shocked them all — a bone-white face with a permanent rictus grin — but he revelled in the freedom to be himself, performing tumbles and dances whenever the mood took him.

‘I feel strange here, too,’ Sophie said. ‘Almost like coming home.’

Mallory was distracted by the odd shadows that clustered around trees, the unnatural way the grass moved when there wasn’t a breeze. ‘This place creeps me out. I feel as if someone’s watching us all the time. Oi!’ he called to Jerzy. ‘Stop dancing like a loon. Are you sure we’re going the right way?’

‘Oh, yes. I could never forget the way to the Court of the Soaring Spirit.’ The Mocker grinned. ‘The home of my former mistress. For so long a prison. But now … sanctuary! We need a safe place in these troubled times.’

At the foot of the hill on which the ruined watchtower stood, they passed a small farmstead, the long, low building half-set into the hillside. A small man with berry-brown skin and dark, furtive eyes was tending the vegetable patch beside the house. When he saw them coming, he bolted inside, slamming the door and all the shutters.

‘Brigid says everyone round here is scared,’ Caitlin said in her little-girl voice. ‘Now I’m scared, too.’