A Listeners Story
And here it is … the fourth instalment of The Girl With The Last Light.
If you missed the previous parts please check back in my Substack for the earlier instalments.
A Listeners Story
The old Listener, Emmanuel, did not notice the first moment of silence made by the coming alive of a witches bone out of Ravens dream time magic.
He was accustomed to listening to irregularities in the land made by the thrum of the kings enchanted skeleton. This was something completely different.
The first time it was an absence. The second, third and fourth it was the same. He remembered them like pin pricks. Moments that vanished so quickly everything sounded normal.
It was a no-thing. Until it was some-thing.
Emmanuel realised that years had past since it had begun. He shivered, not with cold, but with the hard realisation he’d failed. He’d missed real signs that magic had returned.
He tried to count how many silences there had been. There were too many.
How it had started he had no idea. But he knew every pin prick of no sound had been one dot to connect to the next and that the little girl arriving with her strangeness was very certainly a witch creature.
“Sophie.” He hissed. He said her name and thought also of the raven woman. Another witch creature. Old, like him.
He took another step towards the black slate mountains; towards the bones of the old king; Towards the biggest, darkest magic of them all. Towards what should be, to his mind, the only magic.
He could feel the thrum of the kings bones - their beat pulsing through his own arteries sustaining his body.
He was the best of the Listeners and the only one who’d served the king when he was actually living. The others were loyal, tough and hardened but they hadn’t seen the things he had. They didn’t know what it was like when magic had been worked by normal people on the grey isle and the traces it left. Emmanuel could only blame himself for missing the signs.
“It’s time.” He muttered. “I’m coming.”
He took another step. Pain tore through him. The Raven woman had nearly killed him but nearly wasn’t enough. He should have died a thousand times.
“I’ll serve you still.” He said bitterly.
He would wake the old Kings spirit. He would not fail in that.
Wishing you warmth and joy this Christmas weekend!
Lucy