One - The Lake

On the edge of the forest, where the trees were so intimately grown that a seemingly impenetrable wall was formed against intruders, there was a cool, clear lake who's surface stood as serene as ice on the windiest of days. If someone were to take a pebble and throw it into that lake, sending ripples across its smooth surface, they might have the feeling that something precious had been shattered, the way one feels if they speak during a holy silence.
The lake filled the bottom of the valley who's South Eastern sloped bore the forest and who's Northern end broke off from the Eyoran mountain range. It was a tinkling stream from these mountains that fed the Placid Lake, as the locals called it, and since the water level remained always unchanging, they supposed that it must run off underground at the Southern end of the valley.
On a warm evening in early autumn, such as it was when this story begins, the lake would become as liquid gold, perfectly mirroring the colour of the sinking sun. The forest would be at its least uninviting, so full of colour it was; red, amber, yellow and gold leaves bursting from their branches in an ecstatic crescendo, paying homage to the fading year which would soon slip into winter.
Half a day's walk away, on the other side of the Western hills, stood the village whose inhabitants had named the lake. The village was nestled at the foot of the mountains, creeping along the roots of the tallest, Eyorus, where they had a good water supply along with crops and woodlands where they might hunt for game. The difficult journey to the lake was therefore needless and rarely taken, for the villagers were terrified of the valley and its still waters and hostile forest. The priests said it was forbidden holy ground, the chiefs said that the lake was dangerous and the adults taught the children that it was bottomless and haunted by Nixes, or that it would swallow you into its depths if you so much as looked at it for too long. The village elder, who was the oldest woman in the village, remembered a time when it had done so, and she had relayed the tale so often that it was common knowledge and a well-used bedtime threat for disobedient children ("If you don't stop that at once your father will throw you into the Placid Lake."). The old woman was named Martha, and she had been but five when it had happened, if indeed it had happened at all. Though no one could tell her age now, she resembled a woman who had been stood waiting on death's doorway for several years; her skin was tightly drawn around herself, as if she had outgrown it, and thick with wrinkles so deep and full of shadow that they might be ink lines. Her hair resembled cobwebs and her nails were long and black and had not once - she said - been cut or broken in her life. All the children were afraid of her, and the adults, while repulsed by her appearance, respected her and almost worshipped her as a deity. Her opinion was sought during any crises, and her blessing was required at any marriage, birth or other ceremony. It was she who named all the babies in the village, for she possessed the ability to see into someone's soul through their eyes and judge a name for them. When they came of age at seventeen, Martha would help them pick out their adult name; the name that would remain secret between the new adult, the gods, and Martha. In some ways she was considered more important than the village priests.
Martha's story ran thus: "I was a young girl, of five years, and my father took me to the lake to watch the bears on the far shore fishing at sunset. He had to carry me over the hills, because that last part of the journey is so testing, but he was the strongest warrior I ever met and I was no burden for him. My brother was with us, he was eighteen and already as big as our father, such a strong lad he was.
"We reached the lake and there were others there, for we were far less afraid of the water than we are today, as we have good reason to be. But we did not know then. (Here she would stop, and shudder and her deep black eyes would roll up to stare at the ceiling of her dark little hut in horror.)
"At the lake (she'd continue), a group of people had gathered to watch the bears fishing - such a lovely site it was - I remember, there were three of my brother's friends, and a fisherman who knew my father. So all the men got to talking, as men do, about hunting and the coming winter which looked to be our hardest ever, and such, and I crept to the very edge of the water and stood alone watching the bears as they trundled out of the forest and into the shallow water to fish. I remember I was so enraptured by their motions as they flicked the fish out of the water and caught them in their mouths, splashing and dancing in the golden light of the sun, that I could barely move, I could not speak. I held my breath, without realising, and watched in silence.
"Then one of the bears flared up in anger, and he uttered the worst roar I've ever heard in my life. And the still waters of the lake began to ripple, and waves formed as a wind picked up, I remember the wind blowing into my face so strong that I was almost knocked backwards, and the waves got bigger and bigger and began splashing over my feet, so that I leapt back in shock. All the other bears were out of the water and disappeared into the forest in an instant, all but the one who had roared. He was flailing his arms and roaring like a beast in distress, and before I knew what was happening the waves had pulled him into the centre of the lake, and were still pulling him towards the bank where I stood.
"How the pull of the waves overpowered such a heavy beast I do not know, but I am certain that a deep and evil magic flows through those waters. Whatever the cause, I screamed at the sight of such a beast heading towards me at such an alarming speed, for I was only young, and the sight was enough to unnerve all but the bravest men. I scrambled up the rocks to where the men were stood. My father bade me stay there, and I watched as he and the others rushed into the water with their spears glinting.
"But they did not reach the bear. They were hardly knee-deep when they began to sink. The water just sucked them down, down, till all I could see was my father's head, and his spear still held aloft. And I saw fear in his eyes when he turned his head to look back at me, such a burning, desperate fear that has remained within my heart for all of my days. And he opened his mouth to shout "run". And just as he'd done so it filled with water, and then he was gone. (At this point in her tale, Martha's eyes would be bright with fear and pain, and her hands would shake as she continued.) And I turned and ran and somehow made it back to the village just as the sun was rising the next morning. Here I was stricken with fever and left paralysed in my bed, and I've not moved since."
So went Martha's story, which could not be explained by any save the priest of the time, a highly superstitious man by the name of Rhakav, and he said that the bear was the god of the lake and that he was sending a warning to the village, that the waters should not be disturbed by any mortal man or beast, save the bears who had the form of the god. He said that it was the water lapping round Martha's feet that left her paralysed, though she was spared from her curse long enough to return to the village bearing the god's message.
The Northern Villages were made up of bands of rebels and refugees who had fled from the Great Wars. The clash of cultures and races had caused much dispute and anger over beliefs over the years, until eventually each of the villages settle into their own individual culture; a rough mix of every race and belief that was loosely tacked together by priests and shamans, or simply knowledgeable elders. Thus, the inhabitants of the villages were superstitious, confused, and open to any new belief given them.
So the villagers never touched the water of the lake, nor did they venture near it if it could be avoided, which, most of the time, it could. However, every autumn, a member of each family in the village was sent to fill a pail with lake water for their household. The buckets were made of fine wood, and hand carved with images of Sul, the lake-god, and the water was kept within each house for the duration of the winter months, and never touched nor spilled, as a token of respect and worship to the god.
Usually, the oldest son was sent, but this year all the men were away at war with another village west of the town, so the women had to make the journey instead. The usual ceremonious group trip on the last day of summer had to be abandoned, because the women were so busy gathering the early harvest, so the daughters and the mothers were journeying in trickles whenever they could be spared. Two weeks into Autumn, the last three families who had not yet filled their buckets were desperate, and sent the daughters who could be spared, who were not too young to go nor too old to be missed. The girls were three friends of similar ages, Ashleigh, Keia, and Levainne, who had grown up together as close as sisters and spent all of their spare time playing together.
The girls had arrived late in the afternoon, having set off late and stopped for a full hour for lunch at midday. They were lazy, and tired of the chores they'd been made to do at home, so were dawdling and making the most of this day off. They lazed now in the white sand on the banks of the lake, watching the orange sun sink behind the peaks of the hills that rose up out of the suffocating trees to throw their silhouettes in front of the amber sky.
The forest continued on the other side of the hills, but for some reason the topmost peaks bore no growth, not tree nor grass nor shrub, and so were left bare and covered with sunburnt mud. They rose out of the forest desperately, as if drowning in the trees as one might drown in the lake, and appeared to be mirroring the fate of Martha's father. The villagers said that the trees were guarded by gods also, and that mortal men may not trespass on that side of the river.
Everyone knew from legend that even the strongest of warriors could not penetrate the tightly twining branches of the forest. Even the mighty bears could no longer bash a trail through the overgrown foliage, for they had ceased to come to the lake to fish. Only the birds, lords of the trees, could find entrance from overhead, and occasionally a falcon or a pair of swallows would come shooting out of the colourful cascade of autumn leaves in triumph, sending brush and twigs flying about them with a magnificent cry.
The three girls lazed peacefully on the far side of the lake, listening to the lilting melodies of the birds as they sang to one another in the dark depths of the forest. The eldest, Keia, was squatting beside a fire over which she was toasting bread and cooking ham for their meal. She had her large brown eyes fixed on the flickering flames as they twisted and jumped around one another. Every now and again she would take something, maybe a fragment of clothing or a piece of string, attach it to the end of a stick, and light fire to it to watch as it shrivelled up and burned. Completely engrossed in her activity, she barely noticed the osprey that her friend was watching.
Ashleigh, sat up with her arms behind her and her legs stretched out in front, was scanning the forest and the horizon with her keen blue eyes, chewing an end of her thick red hair. She tried to keep her gaze away from the lake, but although she was afraid of it, she felt drawn to it, in the way one is always drawn to something forbidden. She watched as an osprey shot out of the forest, circled round and swooped down to the lake. He reached out with his claws, flying low above the water so that he sprayed white droplets into the air behind him, and snapped his talons into the flesh of a silver fish, pulling out of the dive immediately he had secured his grasp on his prey, and glided smoothly back into the cover of the trees. Ashleigh imagined him settling on a branch in the cool, sweet shade, breaking the neck of the fish and setting about his meal as usual, unaware of the fact that he'd been watched at all. She gathered her pad and began to scribble earnestly.
Levainne, a petite, slight girl with large green eyes and thick blonde curls that framed her shapely face with its attractive features, rolled over to look to Ashleigh when she sensed movement. Seeing her friend at her notebook again, she rolled onto her front again and began to toy with the minute pebbles in amongst the sand. She tried to ignore the pain in her tummy - she'd not taken any lunch since her friends had observed how much she ate - but her hunger defeated her, and she crawled to where Keia had laid the fire.
"How much longer, I'm-"
"Hungry? I'd guessed." Interrupted Keia with a smile, handing Levainne some cooked ham and a slice of toast. She took another piece over to Ashleigh, who had put down her pad and was laughing at Levainne. The blonde girl pouted her full, pink lips and sulkily turned her back to eat.
"Oh, don't get offended now!" said Ashleigh, laughing. "You know you don't need to lose weight, there's no need to stop eating."
"Yeah," agreed Keia, "Just mind you eat less from now on, or you'll end up like your Ma!" She turned to grin at Ashleigh, but was cut short when a spray of sand hit her from behind. About to retaliate, Keia caught the warning look on Ashleigh's face and left it, rolling her eyes.
The light faded quickly as they ate, and when they were done Ashleigh looked up at the deep purple sky in concern.
"I don't much fancy walking home in this dark." Said Levainne with a shudder.
"I say we stay here tonight." Keia murmured distractedly, for she was gazing into the dying embers of the fire.
"I say we stay forever." Said Ashleigh, stretching out in the sand with a sigh.
Levainne shuddered, "Oh, not here. It's terrifying."
"Poor Lev, always the baby!" teased Ashleigh, "its too dangerous to climb those hills tonight. We must stay here." She continued, looking to Keia for support, but the small, dark-skinned girl was staring intently into the embers. Suddenly she leapt to her pack and snatched up a box from it in one swift movement before returning to the fire.
"I need to read the cards." The others rolled there eyes at one another and turned away to gaze at the lake. Its glassy surface reflected the night sky with unnerving clarity, not a single star winked or flickered on the water for lack of motion. It might have been a void opening onto another sky, rather than a lake reflecting the early stars.
Keia was shuffling the deck of cards that she kept wrapped in silk within a wooden box that was always about her person. The cards were generations old, passed down through the hands of her ancestors over the many centuries, and for her sixteenth birthday in January the cards had been passed to Keia. She was already well practiced in the art of card reading, for her father had been teaching her since first she could talk, using a pack he had made for her. These old, beloved cards she kept with her still, but the deck that had been hand painted in exquisite detail by the head of her family, Onami, the swordswoman of legends, were those that she used now. Keia handled them with loving care, in the way a mother would care for a sick child, for the cards were very fragile. The process of shuffling always took her a long time, so afraid was she of breaking the precious cards.
Finally she was done, and she began to lay the cards out around herself where she sat cross-legged. Ashleigh recognised the spread as one of the 'less complicated' readings; seven cards in a horseshoe shape around the significator, the card that represented Keia. Despite tradition and her father's protestations, Keia had selected a male card, the Prince of Wands, as her significator.
Being the type of person that Ashleigh was, she tried to show interest in her friends by learning about the things that were important to them. She had read deeply about the origins and art of what her race termed 'Tarot', the cards that had been used for centuries by the Chiasman people as a way of predicting the future or choosing the correct course of action. She knew they had been created using astrological charts and planetary movements, and were based around significant features in the structure of Chiasman community, the royal families who no longer existed due to the Chisman people's nomadic nature, and the priests, and the other symbols such as life and death. The complete deck had taken many years to perfect, and would differ from family to family, though the basis would be the same across the country. She knew roughly how the cards worked, and the basic meaning of most of them. Her research helped her to understand Keia's choices of signifier cards; the prince of wands represented a loyal, daring, courageous man who could face any danger, accept any challenge and who leapt from adventure to adventure, constantly moving with the speed of lightning. Despite it's being a male card, the description seemed perfectly to represent Keia, and even the picture resembled her slightly, a stock teenager of her own race, with thick black hair cropped to his chin and black eyes that flashed bravely as he clung to the back of his charging steed. Yes, Ashleigh thought, no other card could represent her. Her own significator card was the Queen of Wands, the mature, independent, ambitious women who often displayed stubbornness, who possessed a great many talents and strove to be good at everything. The queen, who's two contradicting elements, fire and water, cancelled her out, had a personality with great depth and vitality. And one only had to look at the card Keia had chosen to represent Levainne, the Queen of Cups, to see that Keia clearly had a talent for the cards. The queen of the love suit was a beautiful, graceful woman with flowing blonde hair, who possesses a deep link with the supernatural. But here I have digressed for too long, for the cards are not incredibly important at this point of the story.
Keia had reshuffled the deck a dealt anew, a much more complex pattern this time that Ashleigh could not understand. She was leaning right over them, touching each card with her forefinger and clicking her tongue as she tried to decipher the hidden meanings.
"We should not stay here tonight" she muttered, continuing to trace patterns in the cards, adding distantly, "we cannot go back."
"Where are we to go, then?" asked Ashleigh, but Levainne, who was naturally sceptical of the cards, merely said
"She is wasting time. Lets go, I don't like it here."
The friends fell into a hush, letting the silence of the valley that fell with the falling of night oppress them. The odd lack of natural noises, of rustlings and creaks and animal cries, was hideous to their ears. The sound of Keia dealing the cards slowly, methodically, seemed to grow ridiculously louder and became unnerving. Each time she placed a card in the sand, the soft 'swoosh' of air and scratch of the sand made Levainne shiver. The silence grew, and the disturbances seemed to place a high pressure on the strained ears of the listeners. Even Ashleigh, usually so rational and brave, was so tense that her teeth were grinding, adding further noise inside her head. All the while she kept her eyes fixed on the movements of Keia's hands, now tracing a pattern in the sand, now laying another card. Ashleigh stared at her friend with the intensity of one awaiting news of pinnacle importance. For it seemed to her that she was; that this reading carried a message that she needed to hear.
Suddenly, Keia shrieked. The high, piercing wail was not of her voice, it did not even sound of this world, so grotesquely shrill it was. Even after it died away, the echo lingered, whistling through the valley with mocking laughter.
Looking over in shock, her friends' saw that she'd placed her hand into the centre of the hot ashes of the fire, yet immediately Ashleigh saw that pain was not the cause of the cry. Keia was staring rigidly at the cards in terror, saying over and over "I see fire, I see fire." Ashleigh was at her side in an instant, pulling her hand out of the fire and knocking the cards roughly aside. All was confusion. Then Ashleigh saw the image that Keia had traced into the sand with her finger, it was the symbol that appeared on the death card in the centre of the sun, a tear-drop shaped spiral with a small incision at the bottom. This was the symbol that was often drawn by tarot readers if they entered too far into a trance, and it represented death, even as the death card did not. Keia was still repeating "I see fire" in the cold, possessed voice that sent shivers up and down Ashleigh's spine. Levainne was squealing in panic and waving her arms in a fluster. Keia turned and pressed her face into Ashleigh's chest, and the red-haired girl wrapped her arms around her whimpering friend, and shushed her in a sensible, motherly way; pushing down her own fear and taking charge, as was her nature.
Slowly, Keia's state subsided. She stopped murmuring "I see fire" and began to cry softly. Ashleigh helped her to sit down in the sand and take deep breaths to calm herself. She'd only seen Keia like this once before, when she'd slipped too deep into a trance and taken in what she called the Higher-Spirit, which had possessed her and left her ranting. That spell had lasted many hours, and when it was over Keia had been weak and panting, unable to leave her room for a week.
Now, however, her strength appeared to be returning quite rapidly, and she ceased trembling. The tears subsided and Keia turned her head to look up at Ashleigh, saying
"I slipped. it was too much - I let it overpower me."
Ashleigh nodded, and slid her arm round the dark girl's shoulders supportively. "I thought it was under control. but it was like it snuck up on me." Keia continued. Ashleigh didn't entirely understand, but she kept nodding and rubbing Keia's back like a mother. "We can't stay here tonight." Said Keia suddenly, decisively, "We can't."
Although certain that this was not all Keia had seen, Ashleigh decided not to probe deeper. It was clear that Keia did not wish to talk about what she'd seen in her trance. She did, however, look up and say
"I think the Higher-Spirit had a message for me. But I didn't understand it." Before hiding her face in Ashleigh's shoulder and falling asleep.
Throughout the ordeal, Levainne had been keeping quietly out of the way, feeling utterly useless. She sat now on a large rock above where the other girls were sat on the sand, having scrambled up away from them at the first interval. She was, in actual fact, terrified of Keia's tarot, and the trance had frightened her to death. The idea of practicing what she considered black-magic, so close to holy water, was just horrific to someone as superstitious and easily frightened as Levainne. She sat now on her rock, above the commotion, hugging her knees and gazing out across the lake, which had turned from liquid gold to silver with the falling of night. She watched an owl glide low over its surface, letting out its haunting cry. A slight wind was picking up, stirring the trees on the far shore of the lake. It seemed to Lev that the whispering rustle of the leaves became rather like the sound of a distant song, composed in deep, breathy sighs. Indeed, as she watched the trees swaying in the wind, it appeared that they were all moving in rhythm, and each time the wind dropped they let out a collective peaceful sigh, so that the forest became rather like a body that was breathing as one, in and out, in and out.
As Lev watched, she found herself mirroring her breathing with that of the forest, echoing the pull and release of the wind, in and out. She sat in silence, ignoring the commotion below her, breathing in and out, slowly and rhythmically, in time with the wind and the leaves. Slowly, she felt her consciousness slipping away, until she found herself in a completely relaxed, neutral mental state where she might have been floating in space. She became unaware of her body; she was merely thought, and all that mattered was the breathing of the trees, and the sound of the wind that fed the breaths. She was nothing; she felt nothing, she saw nothing, she heard nothing, only the wind. She became the wind. She breathed with the trees.
The trance was shattered as the sound of a shriek ripped through the breathing. After a moment, Lev realised the scream to be her own, and cut it short, so that it echoed abruptly through the night of the valley. The images seen by her wide eyes rushed into her brain through the fog that the trance had brought to her conscious thought, and she saw that the lake was moving: the wind was sending waves across it that lapped gently at the far shore. But they were dying away, and by the time the echoes of her scream had faded to silence the water's surface was a serene as ever it had been.
Ashleigh was with her in a moment, shattering the dozy silence that had previously fallen upon Levainne's ears, and Keia, now full recovered, was close behind. Neither girl had seen the lake; they were too busy staring at their friend in apprehension. Even by her own pale standards, they saw that Lev was as white as death, and shaking. But when they asked what was wrong, Lev would only reply, "I don't know. Nothing." Eventually, she shook her herself and normality returned, her head clearing. "Something made me jump, that's all." "There's something wrong with this place." Said Ashleigh, pulling her cloak around her shoulders and shivering. "We have to leave. Now." Said Keia. Levainne nodded; for once she would not disagree with Keia.
The girls packed quickly, and began to scramble up the rocks. Just as Lev's feet felt the solid rock emerge from the sand, and knew that she was leaving the beach behind her, the moon disappeared behind thick purple clouds, drenching the valley in darkness. Without looking back, they hurried up the slope. In the darkness, they could not find the tiny path that sloped up the hillside and out of the valley, so they made their way slowly among the rubble and rocks, Keia leading the way and picking out the surest footing, for her eyes were keenest in the dark.
They had been walking for almost an hour without gaining much distance, when Ashleigh stopped and gripped Keia's arm. Levainne, who had been walking behind Ashleigh, did not see her halt and slipped, cutting her knee on a rock that jutted out from the cliff side. For a hideous moment that made her stomach lurch and her head spin, she thought she might fall, and let rip a second piercing scream. The sound tore through the night, sending scores of birds into the air in a flurry of wings. Ashleigh and Keia whipped around, terror in their hearts, and grabbed Levainne, who was clinging to the jutting rock with her legs dangling over the edge of the precipice they'd been edging along. "Lev, are you alright?" "What's going on?" The girls spoke together in confusion, backed by an angry chorus of the forest birds' indignant screeches. "I fell" said Levainne shakily, scrambling to her feet and holding onto Ashleigh as if for dear life. "Why did you stop?" her voice came little more than a whisper, as if she were afraid to disturb the black silence again. "Because we forgot the buckets" Ashleigh whispered back. The other two groaned, Keia slumped to the ground and put her head in her hands. Levainne looked horrified. "Are we to climb all the way back down?" she asked in terror. "It's hardly far," remarked Keia, who so frequently lost her temper with the timid Levainne. "We have to go. We cannot return without water." Said Ashleigh helplessly. "I'm not climbing back down." Returned Levainne. "We must." "I won't." "I'll go." Shouted Keia above them, rising to her feet. "You can't go alone" "Don't we have to get it ourselves?" "It's fine, I will get the water, you wait here." Said Keia, pushing past them and starting back down the path. She ignored their protests, and disappeared into the darkness. The girls could not follow, so they settled down on the ledge to await their friend's return.
Keia, meanwhile, was hurrying down the cliff-face, intent more on speed than safety. In truth she could not bear to return to the valley, knowing in her heart that she should be returning to the village. 'The Higher-Spirit wants me there.' She thought angrily. Bitter tears crept down her cheeks, such a strong hold had the tarot on her emotions. She knew not what was wrong, only that she must fix it.
Secretly, Keía wished to turn back and climb the hill, taking a different path and abandoning her friends. She knew that alone she could make it too the village before sunrise. But even though she could not bear to defy the tarot, her love for her friends and her sense of what was right and fair, were stronger. Keía visualised them huddled together on the cliff- side, waiting for her, and she could not leave them. She hurried on.
Even Keía's eyes could not see brilliantly in the dark of the valley, which seemed to intensify which each step that she descended into it. The moon was hidden behind a blanket of clouds, and Keía could not see the lake that had previously reflected it. She shuddered at the thought of it lurking in the blackness, silent and still, awaiting her. The journey down the cliff lagged on and on, and the girl felt she was no closer to the lake than when she'd set off. Finally, she felt the sand beneath her feet, and a step further she fell over the stack of buckets. She lay on the sand for just a moment, suddenly exhausted, and while she rested the moon's face appeared from behind the clouds, painting the valley and its lake in her silvery light. Keía picked up the buckets and made her way slowly to the water's edge, her heart thudding against her chest. It seemed that the lake had absorbed the moon, and had become light rather than water, for its perfect surface was unblinkingly silver, like molten metal. 101 new. 5,501 total.
At the water's edge, Keía stooped with the bucket and made as if to dip it into the lake, but didn't. Instead she stood still, holding the bucket above the lake, her heart thudding. For all that she scorned the superstition; Keía couldn't help but fret about disturbing the water's perfect surface. She hovered uncertainly, squatted on her haunches, for ten long minutes, as if awaiting a sign of some sort, confirmation that she was allowed to disturb the lake. The valley became dark, then light, then dark again, as scurrying clouds chased each other across the moon's face, and still Keía waited, silently, apprehensively. No sound arose, even from the nocturnal hunters in the forest. The wind moved silently through the valley, and all was still.
Keía waited, scanning the dark lake with her keen eyes. Still nothing happened, and she began to feel a little foolish. Suddenly, she heard a sound. A tiny 'plop' in the centre of the lake. Keía held her breath and stayed very still for long moments. The moon re-appeared in time to shed light on the ripples that moved very slowly to the water's edge and caused it to lap and gurgle against the sand.
The tension died, an owl hooted, and Keía began to breathe again. She dipped in the first bucket and filled it, then set it beside her in the sand. Taking up the second bucket, Keía bent over the water with it, but she did not fill it. Her eyes had picked out a shape in the water, disturbed by her ripples, and she stood rigid watching it. It appeared to be a piece of square card. The gentle waves brought it nearer, and Keía made out the design of a tarot card. But mine were all safely in my bag, I counted, she thought, staring at the card in curiosity. It floated nearer still, ever so slowly, until Keía saw that it was not one of her own, for the image was different. It showed the Female Shaman, trump card two of the pack that began at nought, a card ruled by the moon and representing virginity, mystic and psychic powers, or secrets. But in Keía's pack the women held a scroll and wore a three tiered crown like the Male Shaman's. Here, a naked women held her blue robes in the crook of her arm, with a spear upon which was impaled a book, and she wore an odd, horned crown with the symbol of the moon on its face. The two white pillars that represent severity and mercy were still present, with the moon in the direct centre of the two and above the woman. This was how Keía determined it to be distinctly the design of the Female Shaman, for the woman was oddly different. She'd not seen a card designed that way before.
Keía leaned out to scoop up the card in her bucket, ignoring all protests of fear and overcome by curiosity. A scream from the cliffs behind threw the girl off-balance, and after a moment of wild flailing she plunged face-first into the icy water, letting out a piercing cry of her own. She thrashed and struggled desperately, fears icy hand at her heart. A gasp of shock sucked in lake water which plunged into her lungs and made her choke.
The water was not deep, and as soon as she realised this Keía crawled back onto the sandy bank, where she lay choking. She coughed and spat until she threw up violently and fainted. The last thing Keía was aware of was the tarot card in her hand.

The two girls waited on the ledge of the cliff-side. Ashleigh sat cross legged, her eyes straining to see in the darkness. Levainne slept against her shoulder, moaning and starting uncomfortably in response to her dreams. They sat this way in silence for long hours. Ash watched the moon appear and disappear behind clouds, preferring when it was dark and she could not jump at the shadows that moved and flicked around the rocks.
After a long period of tension, Levainne screamed and awoke with a start, shaking. Ashleigh began to shush her and to explain when they heard a second scream and violent splashing. Terror gripped at their hearts and as one they leapt to their feet and began to scramble down the cliff-path, thankful for the moon which illuminated the safe footing. It seemed that in no time at all they stood upon the sandy shore of the lake.
Keía lay a few feet away, in a puddle of water and her own vomit. With little speech the girls checked her pulse, cleaned her up and moved her into a recovering position. Eventually, Ashleigh said 'She'll be alright. She's just fainted. When she comes around she'll be fine.' 'What if she's paralysed, like Martha?' Asked Levainne tearfully. 'She won't be' Ashleigh reassured the little blonde girl, and slowly they settled into restless sleeps for the night, watching their unconscious friend.
The moon was declining behind the hills on the far side of the lake when Keía woke up. She stared blearily at the misty dawn sky and judged it to be an hour before sunrise. She took a moment to realise where she was and to recall the events of the night before. When she thought of the ice- cold water of the lake, she tested each limb separately and laughed at her own stupidity when she found them all to be working. Sitting up, she saw Ashleigh and Levainne sleeping back to back and smiled. Then the Female Shaman card in her hand reminded her of the tarot reading. I have to get back to the village. Now. She thought angrily.
Scooping up her pack, Keía left her friends where they slept and headed off up the rocky cliff path, weary with hunger and exhaustion, but with her face set. She did not like to leave her friends but the urgency of the tarot message filled her with a fiery determination to get back to the village with the rising sun. A hideous thought crept into the back of her mind but she dismissed it, thinking I must simply get back first, then I will see what I must do and I will do it, but for now I shall concentrate on getting back.
And with these thoughts and her silent worrying Keía marched bravely up the dangerous path as the dawn sky began to lighten to grey as the sun climbed into the sky in the distant East, still hidden beyond the hill- tops.

Two - The Village