A Cage of Roots by Matt Griffin Page A

out momentarily as they pushed through the gate, and when she came to, she was still in mind to run, afraid that the wild woman with lightning in her eyes was just behind. They had surfaced on a tiny outcrop on the side of a grassy mountain that fell vertically down to a rock-strewn valley, carved over eons by a noisy river. The drop would have killed Benvy.
    ‘Oh, my God!’ she exclaimed. ‘I think I might be sick.’
    Then, looking frantically behind her: ‘Is she …?’
    ‘She’s not coming through, don’t worry. That was close though!’ Taig laughed, and then stopped to inspect the land. He breathed deep, and a tear emerged from one clear-blue eye.
    Long tufts of mist hovered low between the shoulders of mountains that stretched to grey lowlands at the horizon. Fat clouds dropped veils of rain here and thereover the green. Dark forests clambered up the foothills, divided by the great glassy river.
    ‘At last, I am home,’ he said.
    ‘It’s beautiful,’ Benvy said, still looking at Taig. ‘But where are we?’
    ‘Welcome to Fal, young Benvy. The young land that will grow up to be your Ireland. I have missed it greatly. It’s been thousands of years after all.’
    He lingered a while longer, savouring the damp air, holding his face up to the drizzle, and then picked up both his and Benvy’s bags.
    ‘Right, let’s find a place to get warm and sleep for the night. Take care on the way down.’
    From the small stand of rocks, a thread-like rut snaked down the mountainside. It looked treacherous. Thick tussocks of wiry grass slumped among the boulders, weighed down by heavy dew. There would be very little to hold on to on the way down.
    ‘In fact, here.’ He crouched with his back to her.
    She stared blankly at him.
    ‘Well? Hop on!’ Taig offered again.
    ‘What?’ she exclaimed. ‘Eh, no. I’m good, thanks.’
    She took a step, and instantly slipped on a loose rock. Taig caught her for a second time, and resumed the crouch.
    ‘Okay,’ consented Benvy. ‘But we never tell anyone of this.’ And she hoisted herself onto his back. He smelledof wet stone and moss.
    ‘Off we go,’ he said, and began carefully picking his way along the narrow track.
    After a while, the slope began to ease and Benvy was able to walk herself. They stepped through lead-coloured stones and knee-high grass for hours, until they arrived at a riverbank. Cold water surged over a small falls, roaring like a great crowd of people. Daylight was on the wane by the time they reached the outermost trees of a thick and silent evergreen wood. They found a spot with flat rocks and short grass, between a great pine and the bank.
    ‘This’ll do us, young Benvy,’ announced Taig as he set the bags down. ‘You go and get some kindling wood, will you? Small pieces, nice and dry.’
    When Benvy returned, she found Taig had prepared a circle of rocks to fence the fire, and had fetched some bigger logs. When the fire was lit, he showed her how to make the seating more comfortable, using pine needles from the forest floor. Then they opened their packs and ate enthusiastically. When they finished, Taig filled their canteens from the river. It was the sweetest water Benvy had ever tasted.
    ‘What do we do now then?’ she asked.
    ‘Well, first, we sleep. I don’t know about you, but all the excitement back there has taken it out of me.’
    ‘That’s not what I mean. I mean tomorrow; I mean next . And who was that crazy woman, anyway? You said she was called Deirdre? And how did she do those things? With her eyes, and the storm? It was the most frightening thing I’ve ever seen!’
    ‘Most things are frightening when it comes to magic, my young friend. That’s why it’s best avoided where possible. And as to who she was? Well, she was a … friend. Once, a long time ago. I knew her, and then we couldn’t be friends any more. It got complicated, and I am not a complicated man. She wanted to stay friends, so she wasn’t too happy