'Some of us have the ability to peer into Fragile Creatures. But your essence, Mallory, is so raw that any of us could see. There is a battle raging in your heart, the same battle that sweeps through all Existence. Which side you take is within your control, but you will pay the consequences of your choice.'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'There is no need to lie to me, Mallory.' Her voice was so gentle that his feelings surged again. He had the sudden, aching desire to put his head in her lap so she could stroke his hair, tell him of good and noble things. 'Your bitterness and despair consume you. Do not let them.'
'What do you know?' he said defensively. He made to break free from her hand, but couldn't bring himself to do it.
'Let me show you something else.' She turned him so he was once again staring into the Wish-Post. He had obviously become attuned to the object for he quickly fell into the swirling whiteness. He dreaded seeing Miller's dead face again, but this time the snowstorm fell away to show a woman leading a pack of ragtag travellers along a muddy track. It was Sophie Tallent.
'Why are you showing me this?' he asked.
'You know, Mallory.'
As Sophie and her band crested a rise, a dark smudge appeared on the horizon, and though it appeared insubstantial, Mallory knew instantly it was the thing they had faced at Bratton Camp.
'Now you're trying to tell me that if I don't go back, she'll die too?' he said acidly. 'You really do want me out of here.'
'No.' Rhiannon pulled him gently away from the pillar; it felt as if white tendrils were withdrawing from his mind. 'It is important that you are free to weigh what lies within you, and to make your choices accordingly.
Good or bad, the choice is the important thing. But it is also important you have all the information to make your decision.'
Following the flight of a bird, Mallory let his gaze rise up to the crystal roof. The way the sunlight shimmered through the glass brought a tremendously evocative memory of his childhood rushing up from deep within him with such force that it literally took his breath away. He was at his grandparents' farm just outside Worcester on a sun- drenched summer Sunday morning, with the light forming starbursts through the branches of the trees as they swayed in the breeze. The air was heavy with the fruity farmyard smell and he could still taste the saltiness of the home-cured bacon on his tongue. His parents were back in the house with his little sister, but he'd gone walking with his grandfather. It was one of his favourite pastimes. The old man with the lantern jaw and snowy hair had told vivid country tales with a rich Worcestershire accent, filling Mallory with an appreciation of the seemingly mystical power of nature, of the epic cycles of the seasons and the strangely intelligent actions of the animals and birds that surrounded the farm.
On that morning, they had walked the ancient cart track to the thick wood clustering the hillside where his grandfather had once terrified him by telling him that all the trees had spirits, and they watched him as he passed. In the middle of the track they had come across a chaffinch writhing in the dust and grass seed. It might have been clipped by a car on the road down in the valley or winged by a raptor, but it was undoubtedly dying. The seven- year-old Mallory had been deeply upset by its death throes, more so when his grandfather had told him there was nothing they could do to save it. Yet his grandfather had gently picked up the bird and held it securely, stroking its head with his thumb.
'Grandpa, you're getting blood on your shirt,' Mallory had pointed out. But his grandfather had ignored the needless stain, only whistling soothingly to the bird, still stroking its head until it eventually passed away. When he finally laid it to rest in the shade of a hedgerow, Mallory had been shocked to see deep scratches in the old man's palms where the bird's talons had clawed out their fear.
'Why did you let it hurt you?' Mallory had asked. 'It was going to die anyway.'
His grandfather had leaned down until he could look deeply into Mallory's face, and what Mallory saw in his blue eyes had been strange and mysterious. 'Every second is as valuable as the one that went before, lad, and we do our best to prove that. We've got no other job in this world,' he had said, smiling, not really caring if Mallory understood or not.
And Mallory hadn't understood, but there in the Court of Peaceful
Days he had the overwhelming yet incomprehensible belief that it was more important than anything else he had ever been told. Desperately, he grasped for the meaning, but it was as elusive as the shimmer of the sunbeams through the glass, and eventually the memory retreated to its hiding place.
'This place,' he began, 'it's affecting me… making me remember things…'
'Peace has that effect.'
'How long before I have to make my decision?' he said.
'As long as you require. Time here is not the same as in your land. The breath between seconds can be an uncrossable gulf. Centuries can pass in the blink of an eye.' She led him out of the atrium into the cool, shady corridor beyond.
'Then I could stay here for ever and what you showed me might never happen,' he said desperately.
Her sad smile told him that was not an option.
She left him alone to wander out into the lawned area that ran down to the thick wood surrounding the Court. The sun was pleasantly warm before the full heat of the day set in and the air was vibrant with birdsong. He found a grassy bank next to a stream and lay back with his hands behind his head, watching the clouds drifting across the blue sky. After a while, he realised it was spoilt: he couldn't appreciate the tranquillity, for his mind had been made up for him and it was already turning to what lay ahead.
An hour later, he trudged back to the Court with heavy legs. Rhiannon was waiting for him; she already appeared to know what his decision had been.
The kitchens prepared him a meal of bread, cheese and fruit, which he stored in his haversack, and then Rhiannon led him into a large entrance hall he hadn't seen before. It had stone flags and wooden beams, and appeared home to as many birds and woodland animals as the atrium. In the centre, two blue and green globes hovered in mid-air, seemingly substantial, yet occasionally passing through each other as they spun.
Mallory was surprised how heavy his heart felt. He had been deeply moved after only a few hours in a strange place with a strange woman; it made no sense.
As they approached the large oaken door, it swung open of its own accord, revealing a winding path leading through a white gate before crossing green meadows that stretched to the horizon.
'Follow that path and it will lead you back to your world,' Rhiannon said.
He considered asking how this could be, before accepting that the question was as pointless as everything else in his life. Instead, he asked the only question that mattered to him. 'Would you mind if I came back here? One day?'
'The Court of Peaceful Days will always be here for you, Mallory. When you've walked your road and shed your burden, there will be peace waiting for you.'
The words 'Goodbye, Mum' popped into his head and he only just escaped the embarrassment of saying them aloud. Instead, he let his hand close around the dragon handle of his sword for comfort, and then he stepped over the threshold.
'Dark times lie ahead for you, Mallory,' Rhiannon said. 'You will find yourself in a labyrinth of opposing views, with peril on every side. Look to learning to understand the conflict.'
He was about to ask what she meant by this when the door began to swing shut, and Rhiannon appeared to recede backwards across the hall as if the image of her was being refracted through bottle glass. She allowed him a smile and a wave and then the door closed silently.
Mallory walked for an hour along the winding path through the idyllic countryside until he became aware that the weather had grown colder and the landscape was cast in muddy greys, greens and browns instead of the vibrant colours of the start of his journey. The air smelled sourer; every sensation was muted after the heightened perceptions to which he had become accustomed. Yet there had been no sign of passing from there to here; the change had happened in the blink of an eye as if the two lands were merged.
As he skidded down a muddy slope, wondering how far he would have to walk and in which direction he needed to go, he heard voices carried faintly on the wind. He ran towards them until they lay on the other side of a ridge, and then he waited. A moment later, Sophie and the travellers came over the top, just as he had seen them in the Wish-Post.
