‘Nose to nose … yes, that’s very good. How did you respond?’
‘I laughed with them – though it broke my heart.’
‘Aye, it’s the best way.” He leaned forward, peering at Sigarni. ‘Is she wanning up?’ he asked.
Ballistar moved alongside the sleeping woman and touched the flesh of her arm. ‘A little. She was seeking your bones. Damn near died for it.’
‘I know, I was there. Wilful child.’ The ghost smiled. ‘She can’t help it, it is in her blood. I was wilful myself. How is the war progressing?’
‘I would have thought you’d know more about that than a mere dwarf,’ said Ballistar. ‘Can spirits not fly around the world?’
‘I don’t know any spirits,’ said Ironhand. ‘But I cannot. I’m trapped here, where I died. Well, until now. Wherever Sigarni goes, I shall go too.’
‘That’s a comforting thought. I think you’ll cause a certain amount of panic back at the encampment.’
Ironhand shook his head. ‘No one will see me, boy- not even you. I only showed myself to you since Sigarni was foolish enough to tell you about me. So, what is happening?’
Ballistar told the King of the Pallides’ request that Sigarni should find the lost Crown. ‘We are waiting for Taliesen,’ he concluded. ‘He’ll show us where it is.’
‘Oh, I know where it is,’ said Ironhand. ‘That won’t be the problem. Getting there and out again alive is the issue.’
‘Where is it?’
‘In a dying world of sorcery, a dark malevolent place. Even the air is poisonous with magic. No true man can live there for more than a few months. He would sicken and die. One of my wizards tracked it down and passed through a Gateway to retrieve it; we never saw him again. A second followed him; he came back broken and diseased, not all our medicines and charms could heal him. But while he lived he told us of the world, its beasts, and its wars. I decided then to send no more of my people in search of the Crown.’
‘But Sigarni must go there,’ said Ballistar. ‘Without the Crown the Pallides will not accept her leadership. They might believe you, though. You could appear to Fyon Sharp-axe and tell him Sigarni is the chosen one.’
The ghost shook his head. ‘It might work, but then Sigarni would rule only through a long-dead king. No Ballistar, she must win the right for herself. When my wizard returned he told me the Crown was in a temple, at the centre of a city at war. He saw it, was even allowed to touch it. I think he believed that to do so would heal him of his afflictions in that world. It didn’t.’
‘You say allowed to touch it. There are people there?’
‘Aye, there are people. They cling to life in a world of death.’
‘What is killing them?’
‘There is no sun to bring life to the land. The city was built inside a forest of dead trees. There is no grass, and no crops grow. The land is in perpetual twilight. The mountains there spew fire and ash, and occasionally rip themselves apart with sounds like a thousand thunders. You can see why I forbade any further ventures into that land.’
‘But without cattle and crops, how do they survive?’ asked Ballistar.
‘On war,’ the King told him.
‘That makes no sense,’ said the dwarf.
‘It does, lad, if you have a mind dark enough to examine it.’
Ballistar awoke with a start and sat up blinking and afraid. He had failed Sigarni and slept. Swiftly he rushed to her side. She was warm to the touch and sleeping deeply. Relieved, the dwarf knelt by the fire and blew the coals to glowing life, adding shreds of bark to feed the tiny flames. Once it had flared he placed two small logs atop the coals.
From Sigarni’s pack he took a flat-bottomed pot and a sack of dried oats. Filling the pot with snow, he stood it upon the fire. Despite being full of snow it melted to only a tiny amount of water and Ballistar spent some time moving back and forth bringing handfuls of snow from outside the cave. When the pot was half full of water he added oats and a pinch of salt.