The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [111]
Be still. She comes.
Brought to a halt, she saw the glow of torchlight and as it grew brighter she squinted, shielding her eyes. She heard the sound of tiny waves lapping over pebbles and with the increasing light, she glimpsed a wraith-like mist hovering over the further shore of a great underground lake. What an eerie, beautiful place. It was like nothing she had ever encountered.
Shivering, she realised Hotha had spoken directly to her mind. She answered him the same way. Where?
By the lake.
Someone was approaching from the distance, riding a furred beast with another in tow. Hotha dropped his hand from her shoulder and stood beside her. The absence of his touch was like abandonment and she wavered, off-balance. There was an energy-charged zap and an enormous black wolf appeared at her side where Hotha had stood. She felt the panting of his breath on her fingers and she snapped her hand away, perspiration beading her forehead.
The air was warmer in the underground cathedral and Rosette’s lungs no longer burned with every breath. Her numb limbs began to tingle. Water dripped from the edges of her cuffs and gloves, the thin crust of ice melting from her coat. Her legs quivered with the effort to stand.
The light continued to brighten as the figure advanced. She heard the clip of iron-shod hooves and the occasional snort, but could not make out any distinct forms in the glare. How could horses—or beasts of any kind—survive down here? It would take them all day to get to the surface, and then where would they find grazing? The slopes of Los Loma were covered in snow year round. How did they live?
‘You’d be surprised how many things do live down here, for a long, long time.’
Rosette snapped her mind-shield up. She now saw the creatures clearly. They were some kind of strange cattle. Their bodies and faces, ears and black noses were similar to the beasts that grazed in the paddocks near Treeon, except that their coats and horns were amazingly long, and they had gold rings in their noses. Rosette didn’t think cows could be ridden. Maybe they were really something else altogether.
‘They’re called grunnies,’ a woman answered her thought, the sound of her voice rich and alluring. ‘Not from this world.’
Rosette lifted her head to see the figure dismount. She was as tall as Rosette and she wore tight black leather trousers with knee-high, steel-capped boots, a metal studded belt and a high-collared leather vest—all under a rich velvet cloak as black as the caverns around them. Her hair was bleached blonde, spiked in some unrecognisable style, with a dark re-growth at the roots. Rosette’s mouth opened slightly. This woman was like no-one she had ever seen before. She emanated danger, both magical and physical, and something else. An attraction.
Hotha stepped up and they had a silent exchange. It looked heated, judging by their postures. The woman snapped her fingers and the other Lupins vanished, racing back out of the cavern. Hotha remained.
‘And who are you, come to see me in my realm?’ the woman asked.
Rosette did not respond immediately. Hotha didn’t speak and the grunnies stood still. Rosette counted her breaths, in and out, in and out. Two, three, four. Only the soft sound of the waves on the shore, and the occasional sputter and sizzle of the torches, could be heard above her pounding heart.
The woman spoke again. ‘Let me try this differently. I’m Kreshkali.’ She closed the distance between them, holding out a hand. ‘Welcome to the underworld.’
‘Am I captive?’ Rosette asked.
Kreshkali smiled. ‘Not captive, young witch.’ She glared at Hotha. ‘Invited.’
‘Why?’
‘I’ve got the amulet you’re after. It’s empty, but I suspect you knew that anyway. Would you like it, for old times’ sake?’
What a good question it was. Did Rosette seek the amulet? Of course not, at least, not until today. That was the quest of her father and La Makee. She wanted nothing to do with any of it, not with the amulet, Passillo’s spell or this whole bizarre underground world—especially not with this strange woman, Kreshkali. She wanted