guiding whichever of her descendants ended up having to deal with Gwydion. And it had worked, sort of. The manuscript had ‘woken up’ when Jack and Gwydion woke up from their enchanted sleep under the lake. It had answered Merry’s questions about Jack and advised her what to do, although often in annoyingly vague terms.
Perhaps she’d be able to wake it up again.
Merry thought back to the blood magic she’d performed – with Finn’s help – a few weeks ago. Because she and Gran were linked by blood, she’d been able to use blood magic to reveal the location of the cave where Ronan had left Gran to die. She and Meredith were linked by blood too. Doubly linked, in fact: by ordinary genetics, and because of the oath. The oath that Meredith had sworn, which meant that a part of her had continued through each of her descendants, allowing Meredith herself to be present at Gwydion’s final defeat.
So much in magic seemed to come down to blood.
Of course, blood magic was dangerous. Merry smiled briefly as she remembered Leo’s childhood obsession with Star Wars. In her world, it was blood magic that led to the dark side: it could so easily be used for black spells, to control or hurt or kill. That’s what Gwydion had used it for. And every use of blood magic drew the evil energies of the shadow realm towards the spell caster, like pins to a magnet, looking for a crack in the caster’s defences, looking for a way in. But Merry hadn’t suffered any side effects from using it. Nothing demonic had possessed her. No fallen angels had shown up at the foot of her bed to drag her into the darkness.
At least, not yet.
And my intentions are good. Surely that must count for something?
She would just have to hope so. Fishing Gran’s obsidian knife out of the side pocket of the bag, Merry held her right hand out above the manuscript and pressed the point of the blade into the soft flesh between her thumb and forefinger. Her blood began to drip on to the manuscript, soaking into the parchment. She started to sing, combining bits from various spells: the hydromancy she used to see Leo, the charm for finding lost things, a memory spell. Making it up as she went along; it seemed to be what she was best at.
After she’d sung everything she could think of, she waited. The blood had spread in splodges across the parchment, but nothing seemed to be happening. No writing appeared on the page, no helpful map. Merry swore and drove the knife into the ground. She opened the trinket box to shove the manuscript back inside –
The blood stains had vanished. In their place was the same spiky writing she’d seen before. The same word of greeting.
Eala.
She blinked and swallowed hard.
The manuscript prompted her again for a response.
Eala.
‘Um … Hello, again. Do you remember me? I need your help. I need to find Meredith, the person who created you. Can you tell me where she is?’
Yes.
Merry held her breath, waiting.
Meredith is in the woods near the cottage.
‘Oh, for …’ She took a deep breath. ‘OK. But can you tell me how to get to the cottage?’
There was another pause. Finally, another word bloomed on the page.
Yes.
Excitement fizzed through her veins. If anyone in this place could help her find Leo, it would be Meredith and her sisters. Hurriedly, Merry rolled up the manuscript and began repacking the trinket box and everything else.
She was nearly finished, when the sound of raised voices came from the other end of the cave. Someone was trying to get inside.
‘What happened?’
‘Jack tried to walk through the barrier you created and got thrown several metres away.’ Finn smirked. ‘I think he’s a bit cross.’
Merry quickly murmured the words to dissolve the net. A gust of cold air swept in, raising swirls of dust from the floor and making her shiver.
‘Come in, Jack – it’s safe now. Finn, can you go and get Gran’s healing ointment from my bag?’
Finn rolled his eyes, but he did as she asked. Jack stomped into the cave and glared at the wizard’s retreating back.
‘He laughed at me. I know he’s your friend, but …’ His mouth snapped shut, flattening into a narrow line.
‘I understand.’ Merry patted Jack’s arm. ‘I didn’t like him either when I first met him. So … did you find out where Ronan is?’ Her stomach tensed. ‘Or my brother?’
‘No. I’m sorry. There have been more attacks not far from here, more villages destroyed. But none of the people I spoke to know where Ronan is hiding. They’ve lent me another horse, though, and there is another encampment we could try.’
Merry shook her head. ‘I’ve come up with an alternative plan.’
Finn was back. He held out the pot of ointment to Jack. ‘And what is this plan?’
‘Well,’ Merry glanced at Jack, ‘I’ve found a way of reaching the friend that I mentioned. Meredith.’ Finn’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t say anything. ‘I think she’ll be able to help us. Jack, you’ve already done so much, but would you mind lending us this other horse? I’ll try to find a way to send it back to you once we’ve reached Meredith.’
‘There will be no need,’ Jack replied. ‘I’m coming with you.’
Finn groaned, and Jack’s lips twitched as if he was trying to suppress a grin. ‘This will be my kingdom one day. I need to make sure what’s left of it isn’t destroyed by your quest. I brought some fresh supplies back with me; we should eat before we leave.’
Once Jack had left the cave, Finn turned to Merry. ‘Meredith – she’s your ancestor, right? The witch who put Jack and Gwydion to sleep?’ When Merry nodded, he continued: ‘So how did you find her?’
‘I haven’t precisely found her. Not yet. But I have this manuscript that she made. I used some blood magic to reawaken it and—’
‘Blood magic? Again? That’s the third time in …’ Finn knitted his brows, ‘I don’t know exactly, but it can’t be more than three weeks. It’s not safe.’
‘Seriously?’ Merry put her hands on her hips. ‘Weren’t you the one encouraging me to use blood magic before? The first time I tried it, you said I should go for it. Those were your exact words, as far as I remember.’
‘Yes, but I didn’t mean for you to get hooked on it. You of all people should know that using blood magic is risky.’ Finn looked nervously out of the cave, as if he expected something monstrous to suddenly materialise, intent on raining down magical retribution upon them both.
‘I am not hooked on blood magic, and I’m not using it to hurt anyone. I’m not Gwydion.’ Merry took a deep breath, swearing softly. ‘Look, the only thing I care about right now is getting Leo back. And I’ll do anything it takes to make sure I do. There’s no need to be all … judgy.’