Night Bells

  * * *

  Lord Maslyn could not stand any more time away from his friends, so he carefully walked on top of the neck-high snow with his snow shoes until he came to the cottage. Stigg had obviously been busy uncovering the cottage foundations, so Soryn climbed down until he could knock on the front cottage door. Fanndis hugged him around the neck when she invited him in. Warmth from inside the cottage was overpowering compared to the frigid air outside. He was almost entirely frozen from the waist down and sat by the fire for a long while, letting his stiff limbs thaw out.

  “Where’s Arna today?” he asked when he did not see her.

  “She’s in the back room. I think you’ll want to see how she’s doing. She had an accident the other night,” Fanndis replied.

  “An accident? Is she alright!?” Lord Maslyn shrieked.

  “She’s fine. Just go see her,” Fanndis laughed.

  Soryn trailed into the back bedroom, blankets wrapped about him. Arna was napping. On top of her covers was an enormous leg cast. Soryn gasped. Because she was sleeping, he peeped his head back into the main cottage room and whispered, “How did it happen?”

  “She was startled by our wolf friend that guards our greenhouse in the woods. When she thought he was a threat, she tried to climb the icy rock face and fell and broke her leg. She also suffered a concussion. She’s doing much better now,” the old snow woman told him.

  “I’m glad she’s alright,” Soryn sighed in relief. He wondered if he could sit with her. “Can I stay with her today? I know I should help Stigg, but she’s my friend and I want to be there when she wakes up.”

  “I think that would be lovely. I’ll have a word with Stigg.” Fanndis smiled—knowing all too well that the two children cared deeply for one another.

  Soryn wrapped up in several more blankets and brought a chair from the other room. He sat it closely to the floating sun spire so he would be warm while he waited for Arna to awaken. Naturally, his gaze rested on his friend. She looked so beautiful lying on the bed. Her broken leg lay wrapped up in countless strips of linen and looked about three times its size. Soryn frowned. It was unfair that she had gotten hurt just when she was beginning her life as a Seidh apprentice.

  He moved his chair close enough to put his hand over hers. Arna’s skin was soft and cold. He blushed and started to pull away. Soryn was startled when she shifted her arm and curled her hand around his. Looking up at her face, he was sure that she was still sleeping. Embarrassment flooded his chest when she slyly opened her left eye to look at him. Arna smiled.

  “Hello, Bialas,” she said, yawning.

  “Hello, Arna,” he replied, gently removing his hand.

  “Oh…” she said, surprised.

  Soryn timidly reached out and put his hand back around hers.

  “I’m sorry about your leg,” Soryn muttered.

  “Oh, it’s alright. It was my fault, running from Ulf. He’s the white wolf that guards the greenhouse. He was growling and I got frightened. He was just trying to speak to me, though. I’m not sure why I couldn’t hear him at the time. Ever since I fell, I’ve been able to hear him just fine. Is he still here?” Arna craned her neck, trying to see over Soryn’s head.

  “I didn’t see him. Is he nice? I mean, aren’t wolves supposed to eat people?” Soryn asked, uncomfortable.

  “Oh, no. Fanndis said that wolves never attack humans,” Arna assured him.

  “He seems kind,” Lord Maslyn said, trying to be polite, but still wary of the creature—especially after finding out that Ulla was his brother. What if the wolf was Fenris?

  “Well, his pup Derik is really my favorite. I think I may talk Ulf into letting Derik stay with me once he gets older. Not really sure if he would agree, though,” Arna giggled.

  “Arna…I need to tell you something. I hope I’m not interrupting, but…you see…I just really need to talk to someone about this.” Lord Maslyn felt he could not delay his tale.

  “Of course, Bialas. You can talk to me about anything.”

  “It’s about Ulla,” he said, fidgeting with his hands.

  “Ulla?”

  “He’s my brother, Arna. He’s my brother, Olan.” Soryn told her.

  “Your brother? But how? I mean…how is that possible, Bialas?” Arna was astonished at Lord Maslyn’s confession.

  “I don’t know. He said that it happened when he turned my other brother, Fenris, into a wolf.”

  “I remember hearing about that as a child. I was a kitchen maid at the time. I heard the older girls talking about it for days. I didn’t want to say anything to you until you found out more on your own. I didn’t know if I should…”

  “It’s alright,” Soryn sighed. “Anyway, everyone was so distracted by the wolf’s disastrous thrashing that no one noticed a small, black pig running out of the room, terrified for its life.”

  “Did he tell you this?” Though Arna believed Soryn thought he was telling her the truth, she still did not trust Ulla.

  “I figured it out when I visited my brothers’ old rooms and found Olan’s journal. He spoke of a pig he admired in the barn named, ‘Ulla’ and how much he hoped he would be able to try animal transmutation one day.”

  “You asked him about it and he confirmed it, right?” she asked.

  “Right.”

  Arna was troubled by this news. Though she was extraordinarily happy that Soryn might have at least one family member alive, it still bothered her that Ulla was always so sneaky. He never did anything overly suspicious, but Ulla’s whole demeanor felt devious to her. She hoped that she would not offend Bialas if she said something about the validity of Ulla’s claim.

  “Do you think he’s really telling the truth?” she whispered.

  “I wouldn’t have believed him if he came out and told me—he knew that. He said so himself. Because I found the journal, because of what I read, Arna, I truly feel that he is my brother.”

  “He wants us to learn how to turn him human, doesn’t he?” Arna had suddenly put all the pieces together: Ulla’s apparent support in getting Lord Maslyn out of the tower, encouraging them to find Fanndis, leading Soryn to believe he was his brother...It all made sense. If he were really Olan, he would have known about Fanndis because he would have seen her in the castle—perhaps even learned about the Seidh from her. It was clear, however, that he was not adept enough at magic to perform it without turning himself into an animal along with Fenris. It was also clear he did not have enough skill to get himself out of his predicament.

  “He admitted that, yes,” Soryn confessed.

  “Do you want to help him?” Arna asked pointedly.

  “Of course I do, Arna! What kind of a question is that?”

  “What if he’s lying, Bialas? I would never want to accuse him of that without cause, but you have to admit that he’s been somewhat cryptic the entire time we’ve known him.”

  Soryn didn't want to acknowledge her words, but he knew them to be wise. Somewhere in his mind, the suspicion was there. What if Ulla was not who he said he was? If Ulla was Olan, like he claimed, then there would be no harm in investigating to be sure.

  Arna?

  The girl nearly jumped out of her skin when Ulf’s voice came into her head.

  “Yes, Ulf?” Arna said, looking around Lord Maslyn to see if the wolf was in the doorway. He was not. “Where are you, Ulf?”

  I’m outside with Stigg. Can you send Soryn out? Stigg needs help with something.

  “Sure, but why don’t you just ask him yourself?” Arna suggested.

  Ulf did not reply. Soryn was confused at her dialogue with the absent animal. “What’s going on?” Soryn asked.

  “Stigg apparently needs some help with something and can’t be bothered to come and tell you. Ulf relayed the message. You better go on and see if you can help him. That man will work himself to death one of these days.” Arna shook her head.

  “I’ll be back, later. Please get some rest, Arna.” Soryn smil
ed. As he headed for the door, he mulled over her words.

  “Bialas, please don’t misunderstand what I said about Ulla. I’m very happy that you may’ve found your brother. I just want you to be careful, that’s all. He hasn’t exactly been very straightforward with you, you know.”

  With that Arna waved him out of the room and tried to go back to sleep. However, her mind was decidedly active. It was running through every encounter that she had had with the pig.

  Ulla always made her feel uncomfortable. Not like Ulf. The white wolf was somewhat aloof, but very kind and a loving father, from what it looked like. She trusted Ulf. She did not trust Ulla—even if he was Lord Maslyn’s long lost older brother. It seemed overly convenient that, when the pig wanted to become human, he just so happened to be Lord Maslyn’s brother. Then again, he could be telling the truth. Maybe. She could not be sure. Perhaps Fanndis would have some insight into the whole thing. Her teacher did not seem overly fond of Ulla either, which might cause some unnecessary bias. Still, Arna would ask her.

  The herbs that Fanndis kept putting under Arna’s pillow made her sleepy again. She closed her eyes for what felt like a couple of seconds and she was out again. A dream of snow and the northern mountains drifted into her mind. Though she had never been to the place her dream depicted, she felt sure she was seeing a real place. A woman dressed in heavy furs of various pelts hiked ahead of her on a narrow mountain trail. The way was rocky and steep, but the woman led her to the strongest footpaths and often extended her hand to her to help Arna keep her footing.

  A goat bleated somewhere higher up the track. The sound startled Arna and when she slipped, the woman caught her hand. Her face was shrouded in shadow beneath a dark cowl. She was old, that much was clear from her hunched stature and that raspy voice that said many times, “Keep to the path.” After a while, they entered a cave lit up by a blazing interior fire.

  The cave was sparsely furnished, but large. Her guide went about putting away the heavy traveling cloak. Arna watched her curiously. The girl sat when the old woman sat. A goat rested by the fire. When Arna extended her hand to pet the beast, the woman swiftly swatted her hand away.

  “Do not touch,” the stern voice barked.

  Arna mumbled an apology. The woman grew quiet and began to sway. She brought her hands up over her head before bringing them down suddenly and stretching them out towards the goat. What looked like tendrils of smoke curled out from the old woman’s hands and wrapped the goat’s body in a smoky cocoon. Before Arna’s eyes, the goat’s body changed into that of a human man. He was very pale and looked ill. He stared at Arna with the saddest eyes she had ever seen. Before she could say anything to comfort him, the woman withdrew her hands and the man became a beast once more.

  “This man cannot be human or he will die,” she said, as if she were explaining the weather.

  “Why?” Arna asked.

  “He is sick. The disease spreads less quickly in the goat’s body. He will live longer this way. I have done this to help him. However, he misses his human body. He begs me to return him to his human form permanently. I change him back once each day just to remind him how much pain his human body is in. Though his animal body is sick also, it does not feel as much pain as when he is in his own. It is a kindness that I do not change him back.”

  Arna said nothing and looked on the goat with pity. She wondered what had made him so ill. Why did he not simply get medicine for what ailed him?

  “He cannot get medicine because there is none to give him. He has cancer. Even on Ancient Earth, they were unable to cure that particular evil. He is beyond hope. He will die very soon. I keep him here so that he may die in peace,” the old woman explained.

  The goat exhaled heavily and then struggled up on its four legs. He sniffed the air and walked out of the cave mouth onto the mountain path.

  “Will he be alright out there?” Arna asked, concerned.

  “He’ll be alright. He’ll come back when he’s hungry. Why have you come to visit me?” the old woman asked.

  “I’m dreaming. I’ve been thinking a lot about human transmutation.” Arna was a very adept lucid dreamer. No matter how real her dreams felt, she always knew they were not.

  “Oh you know you’re dreaming, do you?” the old woman raised her eyebrows.

  “Yes.”

  “What if I told you that you are not dreaming?”

  “I’d say that you’re just my subconscious mind trying to convince me otherwise,” Arna said, not at all intimidated by the woman’s suggestion.

  “What would convince you?” she asked.

  “I could tell you that. But, you—being a figment of my imagination—will simply confirm what I say in order to make me believe that I’m not dreaming,” Arna countered.

  “That makes a lot of sense.” The old woman nodded.

  “I suppose if you predict the future I might believe that this wasn’t a dream,” Arna suggested.

  “When you wake up, Soryn will be sitting by your bedside,” the old woman stated.

  “That’s likely to be true since he is visiting the cottage. You’ll have to do better than that,” Arna quipped.

  “He’ll profess his love for you in three and a half years’ time, on a night when all of the moons are full. You’ll be in the mountains. You’ll also be asked a question soon after. You will say ‘yes’.” The old woman’s voice was gravely serious, though her words were of love.

  “What?” Arna felt a strange chill creep up her neck.

  “If this happens, and it will, you must come see me soon after. There won’t be much time.”

  “What is all this? This is just a dream!” Arna grew angry.

  “Is it just a dream?” the old woman asked, staring at the mouth of the cave whimsically.

  “Yes!”

  “Open your eyes,” the old woman ordered.

  But they were already open when the girl tried.