“The north,” I said, hazarding a guess but trying to seem sure. “There are some little inlets we should be able to row into.”
Belis grunted. I swivelled on my seat to look out at the island again. We were close enough now that I could separate the dark mound into parts. Closest to the water was a thin layer of black rock, stained by seaweed and algae. Above that layer, the island was split into the grass-covered east and the pale west, completely white from the guano of the thousands of nesting gannets. Above us the sun emerged from a bank of clouds and lit up the sea so that it glowed an emerald green. I took a deep whiff of the salt air, remembering my last visit here, when the porpoises had come to the surface to race me and the dogs to the island. I nearly reached out a hand to stroke Dormath before remembering he wasn’t there.
I watched the gannets lift off from the rocks and throw themselves into the air before slicing, bladelike, into the water. Each movement was precise, the wide wings drawn back, the long neck stretched out; even the resultant splash seemed contrived to set off the elegance of the dive. Moments later the birds would break the surface again, swallowing down fish and leaping back into the sky.
I had always loved to watch the gannets, loved the rare journeys to Caer Sidi, if not the destination. Now I felt awkward and lumpen, unable to run and leap alongside the birds and wild creatures of the sea. I turned away and stared at the water swilling in the bottom of the boat.
It took less time than I had feared for Belis to make landfall on the island. She was surprisingly skilled at manoeuvring the littleboat through the craggy rocks until it was close enough for her to reach out and grab an outcrop with one hand so that I could clamber onto the island. When she was sure I was not going to fall into the water, Belis tossed me a coil of rope we had found in the boat and then followed me onto the rocks. She retrieved the rope and tied the boat off with practised ease.
“With a bit of luck that should last for a few days if the weather keeps. If we’re much longer than that I doubt I’ll have the strength to row us back anyway with no food and no fresh water.”
“Once I regain my power I can carry you back across the water,” I said, bouncing back and forth on my toes.
“Really?” asked Belis. I nodded, beginning to twitch with nervous excitement at being so close to our destination.
She straightened up, silhouetting herself against the afternoon sun. I raised a hand to shade my eyes and looked at her, hair wild and curly from the salt spray and the wind.
“Can you find this castle before nightfall? I don’t particularly want to spend another night without shelter, especially out here in the open.”
I nodded and stood up.
“Caer Sidi, the entrance to Annwn, is on the eastern side of the island. It shouldn’t take us too long to reach. Be careful where you step, the rocks will be slippery with gull shit.”
Belis wrinkled her nose but followed me as I began to climb up the slope. It was steep and uneven and I had to use my hands, jamming my fingers into cracks in the rocks to haul myself up. I paused for breath several times, conscious that Belis would be impatient to carry on. She said nothing, though, stopping whenever I did but always quick to move when I had caught my breath.
As we reached the crest of the island the winds picked up, hurrying the gannets home. They ignored us but the clattering howls they gave as they returned to their roosts filled the air.
Finally I paused about halfway along the eastern cliffs. The rock outcrop formed a rough circle, the grey stone jutting from the thin grass. From where I stood I could see straight across it,the blue-green sea and beyond, on the far horizon, the rise of the mainland. Belis came up beside me.
“This is it?” She didn’t sound impressed, but I was getting used to that.
“The Western Isle, the Castle of the Gate. Here all living things come in their own time,” I said, remembering the old words.
“I still can’t see it.”
I sighed. This woman had no sense of drama.
“Wait just a moment,” I said. “Here, come and stand where I am.”
I moved to the side and Belis obliged, shifting to where I had been. I tugged on her arm and she bent down. I leaned over her shoulder.
“First, close your eyes. Done? Now open them just a little, so that there’s a crescent moon of light at the base of your vision.”
I checked to see that she had followed my instruction then half closed my own eyes. The sound of the waves seemed to increase, the wind whistled louder in my ears. I reached out and placed a hand on Belis’s arm, feeling the heat of her skin under my fingers.
“Now, we will walk forward, step by step. Each time you put your foot down imagine that you are walking on paved stones. Listen for the sound of it, expect it. The wind will fade because you will step inside the castle, so ignore the senses that tell you otherwise. Don’t open your eyes until I say so.”
Belis opened her eyes and blinked in the light.
“For example, don’t do that.” I sighed. She stared at the cliff, measuring the distance between us and the fall.
“It can’t be more than ten paces across.” She looked back down at me. “How long will it take us to reach the castle?”
I shrugged. “It depends. I usually just walk straight in. The handful of times I’ve had to escort a soul right to the gates we’ve approached from over the water.”
Belis walked around the side of the ring of stone and peeredover the edge of the cliffs. I followed her. Below us the furious waves crashed against the rocks, seething with white foam. I felt the undertow of nausea at the height and moved back.
“Straight onto the rocks,” Belis said, her voice wavering. I clapped her back.
