‘When you need me, call upon me,’ said the Ghost King. The archway shimmered and vanished, and Caswallon once more felt the night breeze upon his skin.
‘She is Ironhand’s daughter? Sweet Heaven!’
‘Aye,’ whispered Taliesen, ‘she is of the blood most royal. Now let us return to the fire. There is a spell I must cast before I leave you.’ The druid banked up the fire, and once more began to chant. Caswallon sat silently until he had finished, then Taliesen took a deep breath. ‘There is a man I must see. He is a dreamer and a drunkard, but we will need him before long. Stay here, and do not for any reason venture from the fire.’ He smiled. ‘I think what you are about to see will keep you well entertained until I return.”
Rising, he ambled away along the line of the pool. Caswallon leaned back against the rock face. Suddenly the moon sped across the sky, the sun flashing up to bathe the pool in brilliant light. Then as suddenly as it had come the sun fell away, and the moon reappeared. Astonished, Caswallon gazed around the pool. There was no sound now, but night and day appeared and disappeared in seconds. Beyond the firelight the grass grew long, withered and dried, died and was replaced. Trees sprouted branches before his eyes. Leaves opened, glistened, withered and fell. Within the space of a moment snow appeared beyond the fire, thick and deep. Then it was gone, instantly replaced by the flowers of spring.
He watched the seasons pass by in heartbeats, in blazes of colour and streams of light.
When the snow had appeared for the sixth time, the rushing of time began to slow. The moon reared up and stopped in mid-heaven.
The cold of winter now whispered past Taliesen’s spell and Caswallon shivered. Movement to his right caught his eye and he saw Taliesen trudging through the snow towards him. The old man was carrying a short hunting-bow and a quiver of arrows. ‘How did you make the seasons move so fast?’ asked Caswallon.
‘Not even I can do that,’ answered Taliesen wearily. ‘You are sitting beside a Gateway. I merely activated it. It flickered you through the years.’
‘It is a memory I shall long treasure,’ said the clansman.
‘Sadly, we have no time to dwell upon it,’ Taliesen told him, ‘for the evil is almost upon us.’ He squatted down by the fire, holding out his long thin fingers to the flames. ‘I am so cold,’ he said, ‘and tired.’ He handed Caswallon the bow and arrows.
‘What are we facing?’ asked the clansman, stringing the bow and testing the pull. It was a sturdy weapon.
‘Men would call them demons, and so they are, but they are also flesh and blood from another dimension . . . another land, if you will. They are huge beasts, Caswallon, some reaching eight feet tall. In build they are much like great bears, but they move with greater speed, and are upright, like men. Their fingers are taloned, each talon the length of your hunting-knife. They have fangs also, and short, curved tusks. They do not use the tusks in combat; these are for ripping flesh from the leather-skinned beasts they have hunted in their own world.’
‘Should we not make our way to Cei’s cabin? He cannot face them alone.’
Taliesen shook his head. ‘Cei’s life is over, boy. It was over the moment he agreed to take the babe. The beasts will materialise there.’
‘What?’
‘They will be conjured there,’ snapped Taliesen. ‘Jakuta Khan is a spellmaster; he has located Sigarni and will cause the beasts to appear inside the cabin. I have observed him, Caswallon. He has used these beasts before; he makes them invisible to the human eye. The first moment the victim knows of their existence is when the talons rip out his heart. Trust me, we do not want to be inside the cabin when that happens.’
‘How then do we save the babe?’
‘She is no longer a babe. You have seen the seasons fly by and she
is six now. And she will make her way here. I planted a seed in her mind, and that of her mother. As soon as the terror manifests itself, both will act instinctively. The child will run here.”