Miss Ellerby and the Ferryman

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Now, I’m not sayin’ as I had owt to do wi’ the callin’ o’ the Ferry. An’ I’m not sayin’ as I didn’t, neitherwise. I’ll only say as I’ve known Eliza Grey fer many years, an’ she’s a woman wi’ a head on ‘er shoulders.

Poor Miss Ellerby! I felt fer ‘er. Such a deal o’ strangeness t’ fall upon ‘er all together-like, an’ she not at all prepared. It’s perhaps a help tha’ she was never the excitable kind, or she might ‘ave lost her good sense there awhile. But not Miss Isabel! Oh, no! Took it in ‘er stride, she did, more or less, an’ it’s very much t’ her credit tha’ she did.

The Ferryman, now. There’s a strange tale, an’ no mistake. I knew a thing or two about him, an’ the Kostigern besides, as ye’ll soon hear. Isabel’ s meetin’ wi’ that gentleman — if I may call ‘im such, I’m not rightly certain — was important in more ways than she knew, or he either. The tale grows stranger and darker from here; do ye wish t’ hear more? Are ye certain? Then I will continue.

Sophy’s shop, Silverling, was housed in an odd building near the centre of Grenlowe. It stood alone, surrounded on all sides by circling roads of haphazardly-placed cobblestones. It was three storeys high, built from the same dreamy-grey, silver-touched wood as many other buildings in Grenlowe, and its roof was a spectacular riot of sloping corners and sharp angles all covered over in sleek, dark thatch. The shop occupied much of the ground floor, though on Isabel’s previous visits she had seen a kitchen at the back. Sophy, her husband Aubranael and the princess Lihyaen lived in rooms above-stairs; Sophy’s friend and erstwhile servant, Mary, resided on the third floor, together with the brownie, Thundigle. It was a snug establishment, and a happy one. Isabel had always cherished the brief, sparse visits she had been able to make before, when the barriers between England and Aylfenhame fell on the solstice days.

On such days she was always expected, and welcomed promptly. But to arrive unannounced, with no warning given of her visit, was the very height of rudeness. A dear friend Sophy may be, but Isabel would never have presumed so far if she had been given any choice. She followed Tafferty until the streets began to look familiar to her, and she realised she was within a minute or two of Sophy’s house and shop. Despite her pleasure at the prospect of seeing her friends, she also suffered some feelings of dismay.

She paused for a moment at Silverling’s front door, looking up at the sign with some indecision. Ought she to repair to an inn, if such a thing existed here, and send word ahead of her arrival? It would be the courteous thing to do. But she knew of no such establishment, and when she ventured to suggest the idea to Tafferty, she received only a growl of irritation in response. To her horror, Tafferty turned her back on Isabel and trotted through the open door of the shop. Isabel could only follow, clutching nervously at her reticule.

Sophy was engaged with a customer. A young goblin, with lank black hair and features not wholly repellent, stood near the window, attired in a gown which, Isabel assumed, had just been completed for her. Reams of the lightest, airiest gauze floated around her in a silvery cloud, winking with wisp-lit gems and fluttering with rose-hued ribbons of pure fae silk. The effect of these luscious hues set against the goblin’s yellow complexion could only be termed unfortunate. The lady herself was blissfully unaware of this, however, and twisted and turned on the spot in pure delight, her crooked teeth bared in a smile as she observed the drape of the gown.

‘My informants did not exaggerate,’ said the goblin. ‘Are all Englishwomen so talented with a needle?’

Sophy, on her knees as she adjusted some small detail near the hem of the gown, laughed and shook her head. ‘You flatter me, Miss Tramble. The materials of Aylfenhame are of a quality far beyond those of England. Only here could I produce such fantastic creations.’

Miss Tramble’s grin broadened alarmingly. ‘Then it was a good day for Aylfenhame fashion when you came to Grenlowe, Mrs. Sophy.’

Tafferty stalked into the midst of this exchange without ceremony, her tasselled tail raised like a flag. She strolled up to the goblin, sniffed the hem of her luscious gown in a desultory fashion, and sat down.

‘Good morning!’ said Sophy brightly to the catterdandy. Finished with her adjustments, she stood up; her back was turned, so she did not see Isabel standing diffidently in the doorway. ‘If you are satisfied, Miss Tramble, then I will fetch your bonnet and shoes. Perhaps you will wish to wear your new ensemble home?’

Miss Tramble’s eyes flicked over Isabel with faint curiosity, but she said nothing, and directed another wide smile at Sophy. ‘To be sure!’ she said promptly, and handed over a bulging pouch of coins. Sophy took this, and after a little discussion with her customer on the topic of overpayment, disappeared into the back.

‘A fine confection t’ be stompin’ about the countryside in,’ observed Tafferty to the goblin.

Miss Tramble sniffed. ‘Mind your business, catterdandy, and I will mind mine.’

Tafferty’s tail twitched with derision. She leapt up onto the shop’s counter and began to wash one tufted paw.

Sophy reappeared an instant later, her hands full of shoes, bonnet, reticules and other fripperies, and at once noticed Isabel standing in the doorway. Her face lit up. ‘Isabel! And in excellent time, too. Just the briefest of moments, my dear, and I will show you to your room. I am sure you are very tired after such an unusual journey!’

She turned at once to Miss Tramble, leaving Isabel to blink in confusion at this speech. Had her aunt sent word of Isabel’s visit? How had she contrived it? Isabel was grateful to discover that her concerns had been misplaced, but she was puzzled as well — and a little awed. The aunt she had known her whole life through — the pleasant, courteous, respectable Mrs. Grey with whom she had always enjoyed a friendship — receded further and further. In her place stood a new Mrs. Grey, one who wielded powers Isabel could not begin to imagine or to understand, and whose connections with the once-distant and mythical land of Aylfenhame were inexplicably close. How had she contrived to hide all this from the placid, conventional social world of York? From her family?

Miss Tramble took her leave, tripping on the hem of her gown as she did so. This fazed her not at all, for she recovered herself in an instant and disappeared into the bright sun of the afternoon.

Sophy smiled after her. ‘I find her humbling,’ she said to Isabel. ‘In England, you know, a young lady would spend hours agonising over precisely the right shade of lavender to complement her complexion. Miss Tramble, on the other hand, merely revels in the beauty of the fabrics, and thinks nothing of how she appears in them. I think she has no vanity at all.’

Isabel smiled in response, and went to kiss her friend. Sophy looked as she ever did, since her move to Grenlowe: cheerful, blooming with good health, and just a little untidy. Her blonde curls were escaping from beneath the wispy lace cap she wore, and her simple, unpretentious blue gown was covered in stray, clinging lengths of threads snipped from some creation of hers. ‘She is a model for us all, perhaps,’ Isabel agreed. ‘Though she appears to have adopted one or two of the customs of England. Is she truly called Miss Tramble?’

Sophy laughed. ‘She chooses to be. I do not know if it reflects her true name. She questioned me closely on the topic of English titles, and insisted upon begin given a suitable one of her own.’

‘In that case,’ said Isabel, laughing, ‘I am surprised she did not choose something a little more prestigious. Why not Lady Tramble?’

‘She was taken with it,’ Sophy conceded, ‘but when she understood its true meaning, she would not choose it. It would be unbecoming, to pretend to a station she does not possess. That is what she said.’

‘A very honest goblin,’ Isabel said gravely.

Sophy agreed to it. ‘But come, let us settle you upstairs. You will want to rest, I should imagine, and perhaps arrange your dress?’

Isabel put a hand up to her hair, suddenly self-conscious. ‘Oh dear, yes. I must look a fright. I am sure the winds have caused much disorder. Oh, but I have brought no luggage! I was not aware I was to travel, until the moment of departure.’

‘The day has yet to come when you could manage to look a fright,’ Sophy said with a warm smile. ‘But you are, perhaps, slightly less beautifully turned-out than usual. You need not concern yourself about a lack of clothing, for I at least was given warning of your visit, and I have prepared a few things for you.’

Isabel allowed herself to be led upstairs, where a small but beautiful and comfortable room had been prepared for her. She had never before spent more than a few scant hours at Silverling, as the nature of travel between England and Aylfenhame did not allow for it. She took possession of the room with quiet satisfaction, delighted at the prospect of paying a longer visit to her dearest friend. Thoughts of the abandoned York assembly, of Mr. Thompson and her mother’s expectations would intrude, but she pushed them away for the present. Her aunt had promised to manage all of these problems, and Isabel could no longer doubt her perfect capability to do so.

The wardrobe of garments Sophy had provided was delightful, of course, and she had displayed both a clear knowledge of Isabel’s tastes and a desire to please her friend. There were three gowns hanging in her closet, together with two spencers and a pelisse, and matching shoes. All were fairly simple in style and without the fussy adornments which Isabel found repellent. They were also in her favourite shades of blue and green. Touched, Isabel thanked her friend sincerely, and received an affectionate smile in return.

Sophy left her to tend to her appearance, and to rest, but Isabel took advantage of only one of these offers. She was tired, but not terribly so, and other feelings took precedence over her desire to refresh herself with slumber or repose. She wished to see a great deal more of Sophy, without delay; and besides, her curiosity had yet to be assuaged. Within half an hour, she left her little room and made her way downstairs once more.

The shop was empty, so she stepped into the back. Sophy’s workroom lay directly behind the shop-floor, and beyond lay the kitchens of Silverling. To her surprise, Isabel found both full of people. She could hear the voices of Mary and Thundigle coming from the kitchen, while Sophy had retired to her workroom. Isabel went into the latter, and found two others present: Sophy’s husband, Aubranael, and the princess Lihyaen.

The two Aylir were remarkably similar in appearance; so much so that Isabel might assume them to be related, if she did not already know to the contrary. Aubranael was tall and lithe, with brown skin, long dark hair falling in a tumbled mess around his face, and brown eyes which typically twinkled with good humour. He had left off the wide-brimmed hat he used to wear indoors or out, which Isabel considered to be a good sign. His face was disfigured, an affliction which he had used to bear with considerable pain, and hid any way he could. Now he looked back at Isabel with no trace of self-consciousness, and smiled a genuine welcome.

Lihyaen was much shorter than he, though significantly taller than she had been upon Isabel’s last visit. Her skin and hair were almost as dark as Aubranael’s, though the latter curled delicately, and bore goldish streaks mixed in with the chocolate hue. Her eyes, though, were quite different: large and gold, a colour Isabel never saw in England. Her face was very pretty, and young. She looked to be perhaps eighteen years old, though Isabel knew her to be as old as Aubranael in truth. The lost princess of Aylfenhame, long supposed dead, Lihyaen had been a childhood companion of Aubranael’s. She had been discovered, alive (if not entirely well), imprisoned in the Outwoods by a strange and unbreakable enchantment. Hidenory, witch of the Outwoods, had made the sacrifice of taking Lihyaen’s place, and the princess had been free to resume her life.

Her growth, both mentally and physically, had been severely retarded during her long, long sojourn in the Outwoods. She had emerged with the appearance of a girl of perhaps fifteen, when she should have been of an age with Aubranael. Months of tranquillity and care had restored much of her shattered peace of mind, and she was growing and maturing very quickly. Still, Sophy thought she was often troubled, and suspected that the princess suffered much more in the aftermath of her ordeal than she would admit. These concerns had been confided to Isabel more than once, and she felt all the anxiety for Lihyaen’s recovery that Sophy could do; the girl had suffered terribly under the curse, and the loss of her parents besides. But she appeared calm and content, and smiled readily at Isabel’s appearance.

Aubranael and Lihyaen always welcomed Isabel in the kindest fashion, which gratified her exceedingly, for they were not very well acquainted with her. But Isabel herself had been one of the party which had ventured into Aylfenhame, a year ago, to bring back Sophy, and the excursion had resulted in Lihyaen’s freedom as well. Neither had forgotten.

‘Tell me, my dear,’ said Sophy, drawing Isabel’s arm through her own. ‘That delicious creature presently occupying my shop counter. Has she aught to do with you?’

‘Oh! Is Tafferty still there?’ Isabel said, with a guilty flush. In her delight at seeing Sophy, she had forgotten about the catterdandy. ‘Indeed, she came with me. She is my… my companion, she calls herself.’

‘Ah!’ said Sophy with apparent delight. ‘Yes, I quite see. I received the kindest and most interesting letter from your aunt not two days ago, and she explained everything to me. My dear, I do congratulate you! Only to think! I had no notion that you bore such connections to Aylfenhame, nor such powers! Nor, I suppose, did you. I do hope you are not too much dismayed. It will require some adjustment, to be sure, but I do sincerely believe it will prove to be very much to your benefit.’

‘Do you truly think so?’ said Isabel, looking searchingly into Sophy’s face. ‘I know that you have settled very well here, but I cannot help wondering if it is sometimes painful to you, to be so far removed from England. And then, there is the question of how to reconcile this new aspect of myself with the rest! It is, you must own, wholly incompatible with the future I must be expected to have.’

‘You are not to worry about any of that,’ Sophy said firmly. ‘Your aunt has given me the strictest instructions on this point, and I assure you I intend to carry them out! You shall not leave us until you are comfortable with this development, and at peace in your mind.’

‘Peace!’ said Aubranael, with a laugh. ‘That is rather too much to expect, my love. When the foundations of one’s world fall away and everything inverts itself, peace is not to be expected. But that is not wholly a bad thing. It is at such unsettling times that the most exciting and rewarding of developments can occur.’ He gave Isabel an encouraging smile, which she could not manage to return.

Sophy nodded in agreement, and squeezed Isabel’s arm. ‘Never mind, Isa. All will be well.’

Lihyaen had not spoken before, choosing instead to listen with her usual quiet demeanour. Now she leaned towards Isabel a little, her golden eyes shining, and said: ‘You were conveyed here by the Ferryman! Is it true? Was it indeed he?’

Isabel nodded. ‘It was he, and he was a curious fellow. But how is it that you know of him? I understood that he has been gone from these parts for some time.’

‘Oh, he has! But the Ferries of old are spoken of sometimes, in tales, and the last Ferryman as well.’ Lihyaen’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, for no reason Isabel could understand. ‘They say he is very handsome. Is he so?’

Isabel hesitated, thinking of the Ferryman’s long black hair and laughing eyes. ‘Yes,’ she said with a blush. ‘Very handsome indeed.’

Lihyaen nodded with satisfaction. ‘They also say that he is under a curse,’ she said, her voice sinking. ‘That he may never leave the Ferry, as long as he lives — and also that he shall never die.’ Her enthusiasm had faded, replaced by a darkling glower and more than a hint of anxiety in her eyes. She was thinking of her own curse, Isabel surmised, and the pain she had suffered under it; of course she would feel for the plight of another. ‘Is that also true?’

‘He told me so,’ Isabel said gently.

Lihyaen bit her lip. ‘It is a terrible fate.’

Isabel nodded. ‘I have promised him my aid.’

Lihyaen’s eyes widened. ‘Promised?’ she repeated in a faint voice.

‘Yes, of course I did. How could I have done otherwise?’ Lihyaen said nothing, and Isabel continued, with a touch of pique, ‘He seemed to think it a great deal, and I see that you agree, but I cannot think why! Tis a small thing indeed, and who could help offering their aid?’

Lihyaen gazed at Isabel with a mixture of admiration and concern. ‘It is beyond kind in you,’ she said. ‘Sophy has told me you have the warmest heart in the world, and she is quite right! But I fear you do not understand what it is you’ve done. You have promised.’

Isabel nodded once, confused. ‘Yes.’

‘Such a promise is binding,’ Lihyaen said. ‘It must be performed.’

‘I have every intention of carrying it out,’ said Isabel.

‘You must,’ said Lihyaen simply.

‘Oh dear,’ said Sophy, squeezing Isabel’s arm. ‘I do hope there is not some penalty for failure, Lihyaen?’

‘There may be,’ said the princess. ‘Though we cannot know what it will be.’ Seeing Sophy’s frown, Lihyaen hastily continued, ‘It is the nature of such in Aylfenhame. Honesty is rewarded, but faith-breakers are held in low regard.’

‘I shall be no faith-breaker,’ Isabel said firmly, but her confidence faltered. ‘It is only that I do not know how to go about it,’ she confessed. Lihyaen’s warnings were beginning to alarm her, and she felt an unpleasant degree of helplessness.

‘We will help you,’ said Lihyaen earnestly.

‘Of course we shall,’ said Sophy brightly, and Aubranael nodded.

Isabel felt a rush of gratitude. Sophy’s sunny nature had always been a comfort. She never worried, the way Isabel was sometimes wont to do, and she was never gloomy. Her cheerful confidence had aided and supported Isabel before, and could not fail to do so now.

If Sophy possessed the spirit to assist and encourage Isabel, Aubranael and Lihyaen possessed the knowledge of Aylfenhame and its customs and magics that would aid her in finding her way. Her hopes revived, and she smiled. ‘I thank you all,’ she said. ‘Truly, it was impulsive of me. I cannot think what possessed me to promise so readily, when I have no notion how I shall go about fulfilling it. But I do not mean to fail.’

Lihyaen eyed her with an unreadable expression, and exchanged a look with Aubranael. ‘One of those things,’ said Aubranael, and Lihyaen nodded.

‘What things, dearest?’ said Sophy, echoing Isabel’s thoughts.

‘Never mind.’ He smiled at his wife. ‘We are thinking there’s more at work here than impulse, but cannot be sure.’

‘Very well! Keep your secrets!’ said Sophy cheerfully. ‘Knowledge of Aylfenhame I may lack, compared to the two of you, but I do know a place to begin.’

Isabel looked an enquiry.

‘Why, Mister Balligumph, of course!’ said Sophy with a smile. ‘He makes it his business to know a great deal about everything. If anybody can tell us where to begin, it is him.’

‘But he is in Tilby,’ Isabel protested.

‘Most days of the year, he is,’ agreed Sophy, ‘but not all. Whenever he comes into Aylfenhame, he informs me of it, so that I may visit him. And this is one of those times.’ She smiled at Isabel. ‘I do not think it is a coincidence, for I received the impression that he has taken an interest in you. He wished to be close at hand, in case you should require his assistance in some way.’

‘Has he indeed?’ said Isabel, surprised. ‘But we are not much acquainted!’

‘That matters little to Balli,’ said Sophy with a laugh. ‘He would gladly be your friend, if you would let him. Especially now. There are not many witches in Tilby, after all.’

Isabel began at once to feel guilty, for she had made little effort to further her acquaintance with the toll-keeper; even knowing him to be a close acquaintance of Sophy’s. ‘That is very kind of him!’ she said. ‘I am sorry indeed that I did not know it before! Let us visit him at once.’