“Come on, we’re wasting time. I thought we were in a hurry.”
I pulled her back to the entrance and waited for her to half close her eyes again. I reached for her arm once more but to my surprise she took my hand, lacing her fingers through my own. Her grip was firm and strong, her palm larger than mine. I paused for a moment, unsure if I liked it, then squeezed her hand. She smiled, her eyes still half shut.
I closed my own eyelids, ’til only a splinter of light peeked through. I imagined the high walls of Caer Sidi, the arching gate before me, the cold stone of the floors. I took a step forward. The grass muffled the sound of my feet but in my head I could hear the click of boots on stone. Belis had taken the step as well, keeping pace with me.
I took another step, then another, all the while listening for the echoing sounds of my footsteps, the muted wind howling at the thick walls. The only sense I allowed myself to notice was the gap of light sliding under my lashes. I moved forward again, five more paces, each step noticeably landing on the grassy cliffs. Belis stopped beside me again. I could feel a slight tremor in her hand. I wanted to look, to check if she had kept her eyes shut, but I knew I couldn’t. As soon as I opened my eyes we’d have to go back and start again, and once I lost confidence in her, I’d want to keep checking.
I took the ninth step, concentrating hard on the castle. I wished I had gone barefoot. I had never done this wearing boots before. It was harder to imagine the flagstones beneath my feet. One more step and we were at the edge of the cliff. My hand was slick with sweat, and I couldn’t tell if it was Belis’s or mine. For the first time I felt worried that with the next step we would simply topple over and onto the rocks below. I would never return to my old self, never see the dogs again. The soulsof the restless dead would linger in the mortal world. I would have let Belis down.
I couldn’t wait here much longer. Belis could count ten paces just as well as me. If I hesitated, she would lose faith. If she lost faith, then we would fall. I had to make a decision.
I squeezed her hand and we stepped forward together.
My boot came down on smooth, solid rock and the sliver of light in my eyes darkened. I opened my eyes. A familiar scene lay before me. We were standing in the vestibule of Caer Sidi, a stone corridor hung with grim tapestries. In front of us was a wide arched door that looked east, out over the shimmering sea and beyond to Britain. I glanced back and saw, ten paces away, a second door leading to the grassy slopes of the island.
“Are we—?” Belis spoke from beside me. “Are we there? Can I open my eyes?”
“Yes,” I said. “We’re here.”
I watched as she slowly opened her eyes and looked around, her pupils widening as they adjusted to the dim light.
“This is Caer Sidi?”
“The gate to Annwn. No mortal has ever seen this place with their living eyes.”
Belis shivered and I realised I was still holding her hand. I let it go and bent to tighten my bootlaces. Belis was still staring around at the walls, running her fingers over the smooth, glassy blocks of stone, marbled with thin veins of white quartz.
“Come on,” I said, getting back to my feet. “That was the hard part. Let’s go and see if we can track down Arawn.”
Belis hesitated, drawing her hand back from the walls.
“Are there any rules I should know? Could I get stuck here?”
“What, like not eating or drinking? This isn’t a place of trickery, it’s a land of rest. Arawn isn’t interested in trapping anyone here. Don’t expect to see anyone you know. Those living this close to Caer Sidi are the oldest of the dead, the newer arrivals head further out. Stay by my side where possible.”
My words seemed sparse, too little to guide Belis through theendless land of the dead, but she nodded and we began to walk down the corridor into the afterworld.
The light from the twin doors to the living world faded fast and soon we were walking in near total darkness. I thought about how long it had taken me to come this way in the past. Of course I had run everywhere so my sense of distance was a little skewed. I could hear Belis’s breathing next to me, shallow and a little uneven.
“Are you all right?” I asked. “I don’t think it is too much further from here.”
“I don’t mind,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady. “I find that I am not afraid with you.”
The darkness began to lift as the floor below us angled downwards, lightening by degrees until we were no longer standing on castle floors but on a wide balcony at the top of a winding staircase that looked out over the land of Annwn. Belis gasped and stopped walking.
Above us the sky was periwinkle-blue, studded with pale clouds. The land around us was a rolling series of meadows, half farmed and budding with golden wheat, half left fallow to produce a miasma of wildflowers. Clusters of woodland broke up the quilt of fields, orchards of apple and pear trees, vineyards groaning with clusters of grapes. The laughter of streams bubbled up to us from where they moated green hills and irrigated the land like silver arteries.
I turned back to see the towers of fine grey stone behind us, pale granite glittering in the sunshine.
“Well, this is it.” I looked over towards Belis and was shocked to see tears welling in her eyes.
“This is Annwn?” Her voice trembled. “It’s so beautiful.”
“It goes on for thousands of miles,” I said. “You could walk until your feet wore down to the bones and you’d never reach the end. Even I have not seen much of this place.”
Belis rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffed the air. She turned slowly on the spot, still staring up at the sky.
“It’s nearly dusk but the sun seems to be rising.”
