Silversong (The Fable Series, Book 3)

Chapter 16

I'm surrounded by darkness.

Above, below, and all around - nothing but endless, inscrutable pitch black gloom.

"Turn around," a familiar voice whispers behind me.

I turn to face Bea, but she's different. She looks younger and healthier, with colour in her face and her long grey hair piled on top of her head in a neat bun - just as she was before Gran died several years ago.

I'd gotten so used to seeing the 'new' Bea - the tired, painfully thin, shrivelled-up old woman of late - that I had forgotten how normal she used to look.

And it's not just her physical appearance that's different. As she smiles gently at me, I can see that the glassy veil of dementia has finally lifted from her eyes. Her gaze is clear now, and she smiles at me with warmth and fondness.

"This can't be real," I murmur, pinching myself on the arm as I say it. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"Just because you're dreaming, that doesn't mean it's not real," Bea says. "Sometimes, a dream is more than just a dream. It can be a conduit. This is the only way for me to reach you now. We can finally talk freely, now that she's finally let go of me."

"She?" I ask, wondering if I'm meant to know who she's talking about.

"My ancestor," Bea says ruefully. "The old hag took hold of me after your grandmother died, feeding off of my spirit and body to rebuild herself. But now that you've left, she's released me. She's following you, Ash. She'll have to retrace her way up the bloodlines to find a new vessel... another descendent to serve as her host. She travels along the bloodlines. They all do."

"Uh... what?" I ask, more confused than ever. "Who is she? And what do you mean by bloodlines?"

"It's easier if I show you, rather than trying to explain," Bea says, stepping forward and taking my hand in hers. "Down there."

She points downwards, and I follow her gaze, looking down at my feet.

Or at least, the place where my feet should be.

They are nowhere to be seen - as though my body is entirely invisible, or non-existent.

Which isn't actually all that weird - given that I'm definitely dreaming right now.

Although I can't see my feet, I can feel them - and even though it feels as though I'm standing on solid ground, it's impossible to be sure. All I see is impermeable darkness.

Then, out of the gloom far below, a single point of bright silvery light flickers into existence and begins to glow. It spreads outwards, a perfect silver circle of gleaming light cutting through the shroud of darkness.

It's hard to tell if the silver pool of light is growing larger, or if Bea and I are drifting down closer to it - but within moments I am close enough to see a series of reflections moving upon its mirror-like surface.

"What is it?" I whisper in awe.

"A gateway, a window, a portal, a mirror, and many other things besides," Bea says. "A glimpse into another time... think of it as a link in the chain that binds us together. This particular link is the source... the very first in the chain. Now, look into the past with me. Watch."

A shifting scene is unfolding before me upon the calm silvery surface of the pool - quick glimpses of people and events blurring at the edges like a mirage.

A girl around my own age stands on a windswept beach, her long golden hair tied back in a braid. She's dressed strangely - in a sky-blue tunic with a simple rope belt, like something I'd imagine an ancient Celtic peasant girl might wear.