Ides of the May (Children of the May 2 - updates weekly)

Chapter Six: The Monster of the Loch

I wrenched myself out of Alisander’s mind, but not before a torrent of his memories had gushed into my head. He was still splashing under the water, but I knew he could swim and was safe in the placid loch.

I scanned the far side of the water for signs of Aglinda and Sir Dinadan, but they were obscured by the trees. ‘Palomina!’ I shouted, and then put my other foot in the water, trying to ignore Alisander’s thoughts. I reached out to the thousands of living things in the loch, and suggested to the fish that they might like to come to the surface for a moment. Many, many hundreds followed my suggestion, though it went against their usual instincts.

Fish do not see in exactly the same way as humans. Their eyes react better to light and dark than they do colour, though they often see colours that are hidden from us. The special skill of their sight is the identification movement, to help them escape their predators. As hundreds of them rose to the surface I was able to see through all of their eyes, and spot the movement of Sir Dinadan’s horse beyond the trees. He was about halfway down the length of the loch, riding as hard as he could. Aglinda was sprawled across the front of Dinadan’s horse, still struggling.

‘You called?’ said Palomina behind me.

‘Sir Dinadan was sleeping in the trees,’ I said without turning around. ‘He has Aglinda.’ I pointed. ‘Alisander is in the water over there, could you get him please?’

‘What about Aglinda?’

‘There’s something in the loch that might help.’

I had seen its long scaly back in Alisander’s memory. I reached deep down into the depths and touched its mind. It was old, almost as old as the island of Avalon, but unlike the fortunate isle it had never learned language. The monster – I can only think of it as a monster – stood in similar relation to the loch as Avalon did to the creatures who lived on her back. It kept things stable within the waters, though the hulking monster was more self-serving: the creatures it tended were also its food.

I suggested to the king of the loch that there was a man on a horse who was a threat to his habitat. I put the image of Dinadan behind his nearly-blind eyes, and he began to rise. It believed me.

Alisander’s thoughts left me. I opened my eyes and saw Palomina on her belly, pulling the drenched boy out of the water. I asked the fish to rise again, and saw through them that Dinadan and Aglinda were almost into the hills.

I urged the monster to rise faster. He refused. I commanded him, and felt pain as the ancient thing struggled against me. My nose began to bleed as he lashed out with his mind, and warm blood trickled out of my ears.

Dinadan was almost safe.

I half-threw myself, half-fell into the water. I screamed at the monster to do as I commanded, and felt his rage and pain as he found herself unable to disobey me. He swiped his gigantic tail, and sped towards the surface.

I do not know how to record the next part. For a moment I was not Drift, but the ancient beast. It was quite a different sensation to the one I experienced when I connected with the minds of other humans or of smaller, short-lived fish. Then, I always remembered who I was, but in the mind of the monster I lost myself entirely.

I was dying, I knew it. Long ago I had learned that the shallows were no place for me. But a mere insect had taken control of me, and was driving me to my death.

My weak old legs touched the sandy, muddy floor at the edges of my home, and I was forced, through one final effort, to throw myself into the air and collapse onto the road. I screamed my final roar, and the last thing I saw through my darkening eye was the man the insect had forced behind my eye thrown from the beast he rode.