Gondell felt strangely alone as he crouched beside his small fire as evening set in, It's much later than I had imagined, he told himself as the tree's shadows lengthened toward the water, I don't fancy wandering around in the dark, best if I sleep here and start fresh tomorrow at first light. He poked the glowing embers with a stick and watched sparks drift into the darkening sky. If I'm staying here tonight I need more wood he told himself and busily set about collecting sufficient fallen logs to feed his fire throughout the approaching hours of darkness.
Night had fallen before he was satisfied that his collecting had yielded sufficient fuel and dropping a heavy log onto the flames he stretched out on the springy grass that marked a boundary between water and trees, “A glass of bramble wine would not go amiss now,” he announced to the silence and smiled, “It's been quite a day.” One would have expected that near drowning and the loss of his wonderful boat would have depressed Gondell's mood, and to an extent it had, yet he could still smile. Always a positive soul, Gondell rarely let his thoughts linger on his losses, “Tomorrow is another day,” being one of his favourite expressions.
The stars above his head spread in the darkness of a clear sky, and not a cloud drifted across the pale moon. It will be a cold night, he thought and shuffled closer to the fire that crackled merrily, spitting from time to time as pale amber resin oozed from the log that had now caught nicely and promised warmth for quite some time. At no point had Gondell questioned why he had found such a goodly supply of conveniently cut wood so close at hand, his mind had been occupied with the strange events of the day and a comment that Cellie had made that had only just begun to nag him.
“My name is Cellie, and I am truly sorry, I didn't know who you were.”
“What I don't understand is how she knows me?” he voiced aloud to the stars above, “And then she said... it's in her nature to do such things... but if she'd known?”
Known what? Who I am? How could she know? I'm not famous, I do not travel far, everyone that I know is in Hendle... and I'm sure someone would have mentioned if they knew a siren!
Gondell shuffled onto his side and gazed out across the mirror calm lake, the reflection of the moon almost perfect with hardly a ripple to mar the beautiful image. Is she still out there? The thought filtered into his mind, in the distance he could just make out a line of torch lights on the far shore, pricks of light even smaller and dimmer than the stars, yet in the middle distance he swore he could see a small dark shape floating, he rubbed his eyes and looked again, “It's probably nothing,” he announced as the smallest shiver of fear crept up his spine, and she did seem very upset about what she had done, I don't really think I have anything to fear. Yet despite his bravado he wished that he had a little company, another soul sharing his solitude on the edge of the strange and ominous forest. Even bumbling Tindell would be good company now, he admitted silently.
Gondell may have felt alone, but little did he know that suspicious eyes had watched him from the tree tops as he gathered his wood, and quiet whispers had followed his wanderings, plans and plots devised. Not for the first time that fateful day his waist coat had been studied, but where Cellie had felt deep respect in her cold heart at the sight of the motif, other eyes saw only opportunity and the potential for mischief.
“Go now, and find them quickly,” Donur the fairy whispered to his cousin Frielok, “Return swiftly, we only have until daybreak.”