A timely meeting

As Almurta moved towards the donkey that had spoken to her a man emerged from the stables carrying a bucket. There was something familiar about his stooped posture. He gave a start when he saw her. “Almurta, what are you doing here?” he asked.

“Kryzt? I could ask you the same thing. I thought you lived back at that town by the Valley of Bones.”

“Oh, I work out here each winter taking care of the animals. It’s me home away from home, so to speak.” Kryzt continued on towards the donkeys. “I thought you would have set sail from Lenore months ago,” he said over his shoulder.

“The ship was delayed. I went off and explored the forest in the meantime. Now I’m back here to get a donkey that will take me to Rainbow Beach by Christmas.”

“Well whatever you do don’t take Loki,” said Kryzt indicating the buff coloured animal that had offered Almurta a ride. “That old trickster will take you back where you started from or lead you round in circles.” For a moment Almurta had a fleeting vision of a coyote lurking inside the form of Loki the donkey. The effect was uncanny.

“I think that’s already happened,” said Almurta. “I seem to have arrived back precisely where I was months ago. I’m looking for E. You don’t happen to know where she is, do you.”

“E? She’s off holidaying up at the headland. Whatever gave you the idea she’d be here?”

“An elf I met called Pathfinder. He read my mind and sent me here,” said Almurta in a halting voice. Suddenly trusting the elf began to seem like a very bad idea indeed, a complete error in judgement.

“Pathfinder!” roared Kryzt. A hearty belly laugh followed. “What kind of elf calls himself Pathfinder? Sounds like a fictitious character to me. Elves round here usually have names like Woody and Guthrie. They’re wayward characters, that’s for sure, but there’s none I’ve ever heard of that can read minds. Pathfinder sounds like something the trickster would call himself just to confound you. Girl you’ve got some serious lessons to learn attracting the trickster into your life not once but twice. And what the hell have you done with Shadow?”

Almurta gulped. Kryzt’s attitude and the knowledge that she had been tricked added to her sense of frustration. “I’m getting really sick of this,” she mumbled more to herself than to the man in front of her. “Everything has been totally schizoid since I got to Lenore. Sometimes everything’s lovely – just like the tourist brochures for the place promise – then all hell breaks loose. I get a donkey that leads me places where I forced to dig over the bones of my own past or confront harpies, zombies and banshees. When I question the experience I get told my subconscious mind is creating it. Basically, that’s its all my fault. I spent months analysing my own stuff only to be told I have to look deeper. I’m constantly being treated with hostility or like I’m an imbecile.” She stopped to draw breath and looked around. The scene was bucolic. The air was perfumed with scent of roses, butterflies flittered about and birds chirped. “I just don’t get this place,” she said rubbing her brow in confusion. “I keep reading glowing testimonials from other travellers. I hear tell of the others travelling through wonderful towns and gardens where they are feted and treated to joyous entertainments. Sumptuous feasts are prepared in their honour. All I get is aggravation and attitude.” She looked Kryzt in the eye. “Shadow is back in the Valley of Shadows if you must know. Pathfinder said it was a perfect place for him. No doubt I was wrong to leave him there. Seems like everything I do around here is wrong. I’m seriously considering quitting this whole scene and going back to same old same old I have back home. At least I know what to expect there.”

“Suit yourself, there’s no one forcing you to stay and it is the nature of Lemuria that you create your own experience. It’s all about the Law of Attraction just as it is in your world. You attract what you are – if you have a negative self image you attract negativity into your life,” said Kryzt putting down his bucket and regarded her coolly. “If you want to travel through gardens and friendly towns feasting and being entertained, just state that as your intention. It’s as simple as that. Why you could start right now by following that winding pathway over there.” Almurta’s gaze followed his pointing finger to a pathway that had just magically appeared between the trees. She gave him a smile of gratitude and set off towards it. “Don’t worry about Shadow,” Kryzt called after her. “I expect he’ll find again when the time is right. You don’t get to lose him that easy.”

Almurta headed down the path without a backward glance. Kryzt’s words rang in her head. The Law of Attraction sounded remarkably similar to the wisdom Pathfinder had offered her. Maybe there was truth hidden in the elf’s tricks and guises after all. The delightful scent of orange blossom drifted around her as the path wound through formal parterre gardens. Orange trees were clipped into neat ball shapes grew beside white marble fountains. Low box hedges surrounded them. Further on she could see a rustic hamlet nestled in a fold of the hills. White smoke from chimneys curled gracefully upward. She walked towards it reasoning that if her experiences in Lemuria were all of her own creation and Shadow really was in her future surely a sojourn among kind country folk would relax and soothe her subconscious enough to ensure she attracted more positive experiences.

Almurta hits the road.

“This isn’t a bit like I imagined it would be,” said Almurta as she and Shadow picked their way down from the ridge top to a verdant green forest. “When you said we had to negotiate the Valley of Shadows I thought we were going to some dark, freaky place where I’d battle with the ghosts of bad memories. This is beautiful. It’s like a shadowy lost world.”

“That’s it exactly,” said Shadow. “It is a lost world. Not the lost world of suppressed personal trauma but a world lost to collective human consciousness.”

“Something Jungian and archetypal?” asked Almurta with a sage nod. “The forest as symbolic representation of inner psychological states and all that. Maybe I’ll meet The Wise Old Man or the Crone. I’ve always wanted to meet them.”

“Hmmm, not really. It is forest as forest, wilderness as wilderness.”

“So what’s that got to do with collective human consciousness,” Almurta snapped. She was getting tired of Shadow’s cryptic pronouncements and his know-it-all attitude.

“It’s the world you humans have forgotten. Industrial progress, technological innovation and social networking have taken the place of living in tune with the rhythms of nature.”

Almurta laughed. “What are you saying? That we should all take time out to commune with nature and appreciate its beauty? I can do that. I’ve always been attuned to the concept of nature mysticism.” So saying she slipped off Shadow’s back, grabbed her pack and strode off into the forest.

“Wait up,” yelled Shadow. “It’s not as simple as that.” Almurta however paid him no heed. On foot she was far more nimble than the donkey. While Shadow thrashed about in the undergrowth she slipped quickly along the narrow pathways. Within minutes the noise of his floundering faded behind her.

“I should have done this earlier,” Almurta murmured as she explored the secret byways. Lush green growth enveloped her. The forest canopy overhead was so dense that the shafts of sunlight that fell to the forest floor had a greenish tinge. The rustlings, chirpings and whirring of unseen birds and insects filled the air. Up ahead she could hear the sound of rushing water. She pushed eagerly towards it and broke cover to see a wild river cascading in a rush of silver into a dark wooded gorge far below. White water frothed and fumed over rocks. The moist air enveloped her and a soft spray touched her skin like a caress.

Almurta breathed deep. Shadow was right. There was something primordial and spiritually nourishing about the wilderness. The tiredness that had hung around her like a fog dissipated. She stood in silence for a protracted length of time drinking in the view and soaking up the energy. Her nerve endings tingled and she felt refreshed and energised. New ideas and bright possibilities for her future beyond Lemuria crowded into her mind. She felt enthused and began making plans.

“I can face that old grouch Shadow now,” she said as she meandered back to where she’d left him. At least that was what she thought she was doing. As her brain churned with ideas of buying this and selling that, of leaving one place and going to another, it dawned on her that here in her current reality she was going precisely nowhere. Or, to put it more accurately, she was going round and round in circles. That large tree on her left had surely been on her right only moments before and that fallen log – she’d see that again and again she was sure. Examining the ground of the pathway she saw her own footprints crossing and crisscrossing each other.

“I’m lost,” she thought as she sunk down on a log. She felt about five years old.

The log, when she sat on it was damp and prickly, not at all the soft cushioned seat she had imagined. A trail of bull ants heading straight for her rear end made her leap up. She cursed and headed back to the path. Obviously she needed to think things through more thoroughly. By taking careful note of her surroundings she discovered a trail winding off into the undergrowth. As soon as she set foot on it she realised it was the way she’d come. With renewed confidence she walked on, her mind resuming its strategizing about her life beyond Lemuria. As she thought it through she realised her plans contained a hole the size of a small lunar crater. There was no way they could work. This realisation was followed immediately by a whole new set of possibilities. She began to make meticulous plans that would avoid the crater and result in a far more successful outcome. She couldn’t wait to tell Shadow.

“Speaking of which,” she said aloud as she came to an abrupt halt. “Shouldn’t I have found him ages ago.”

Looking around Almurta realised she’d strayed into a part of the forest she had not seen before. The area she had stumbled into now had a definite gothic appearance. Dark tree trunks twisted themselves into grotesque shapes that resembled gaunt faces with dark eyes. A thick carpet of leaf litter carpeted the ground obscuring pathways. Barely any light penetrated the tree canopy. It was as if she’d stumbled into a Grimm Brothers fairytale. Any old crone she met here would be no doubt be planning to eat her Hansel and Gretel style and she shuddered to think what designs on her person an old man living out here alone would have. Wherever she looked the forest appeared to go and on in the same dank and gloomy way. All sounds had dropped away an oppressive silence surrounded her. “Shadow,” she called but the thick leaf litter deadened the sound.

Not knowing which way to go Almurta stood still. The ideas which had so occupied her thoughts now seemed silly. If her first plans had a lunar sized crater the second lot had a hole the size of Alaska. Back in the world beyond Lemuria her life was complicated. No amount of strategizing could overcome the fact that there were issues outside of her control. Outcomes were uncertain and some conditions just had to be endured. There was nothing to push. Defeated, she stood on unable even to plan where her next footstep would take her.

“I don’t know why Shadow said this forest isn’t a psychological space,” she mused. “I think it is.”

Minutes passed. They stretched to half or more and still she stood. No answers as to what to do either in Lemuria or beyond its shores came to her. She let herself lean back on a tree trunk and slipped down into a squatting position. There she remained until she had ceased to be an active force moving though the forest. Instead she felt herself to be sinking into it, slowing down and becoming part of it. She became aware of the subtle shifts of light upon the leaves, the flitting of bird in the tree tops, the silent movement of beetles across the forest floor. The tree she rested against was firm. It was almost as if she could sense the life force flowing sure and strong deep within it. It dawned on Almurta that if she chose to see the forest as a setting for her own inner dramas well, that was really just her own perception of it. The forest was oblivious to her projections. All the beings within it were busy being themselves, just as they had done for eons before her arrival and would continue to do long after she departed. Her role in all of it was that of a bit player with a walk on, walk off part.

A jaunty whistling jolted her out of her reverie. She looked up to see a very tall, very willowy winged man like creature ambling towards her.

“An elf,” she said in surprise.

“A person,” said the elf in a high piping voice. “A rather lost looking person I might add. What, pray tell, are you doing out her all alone my dear.” The elf inclined his head to one side in a caricature of concern.

Almurta grinned. She clambered to her feet and mumbled something about having lost the path.

Well then I’m just the one to help you,” said the elf in an obliging tone. “The name’s Pathfinder. Pathfinder by name, Pathfinder by nature. Just where is it that you are wanting to be then?”

In a rush of incoherent babble Almurta described Shadow, E, the S.S. Vulcania and various exploits that had befallen she disembarked on Lenore.

“Enough, enough,” said Pathfinder the Elf raising his hand. “Am I to take it that it is this donkey you want to find? Or is it, perhaps, the Serpentine Road you are looking for? E has opened a new portal. You can teleport there in an eye’s blink if you want. She is leading a group to the coast any day now. There they will reboard the S.S. Vulcania and set sail before Christmas.”

“Really?” Thought of the luxurious white ship gliding through the azure seas of Lemuria filled Almurta’s mind. It struck her as a far more pleasant way of passing the time than beating around spooky forests with Shadow.

“Don’t worry about the donkey,” said Pathfinder as if reading her mind. “Oh yes, of course, I can read stray thought like that,” he added with a flippant gesture. “And don’t worry, your innermost thoughts are safe. There’s no way I want to go wallowing around in the murky depths of other minds. I have enough trouble wading through my own thank you very much. Oh and Shadow’s fine. Happy as a pig in the proverbial. Shadow in the Valley of Shadows, what could be more fitting.”

For an instant Almurta had a vision of Shadow grazing contentedly on a grassy hillside. Bemused she looked at the elf. “Oh yes, I can make you have visions too,” he said with a self deprecating smile. “All elves can. We are born that way. It’s nothing to get egotistical about. Now where were we: Do you want to find the path to Shadow or the Serpentine Road?”

“Oh, the Road I guess. Shadow looks like he needs a break but I’ll need a donkey for the trip.”

“No problemo. Just teleport back to the Inn on the roadside. There’ll be plenty of donkeys there. There always are.”

Almurta shook her head in confusion. “This is all happening so fast,” she said. “How can I be sure this portal really exists. It all seems too easy.”

“Its magical thinking,” said the elf. “You can apply it to anything in life really. Just define your intention clearly and believe fully in your ability to achieve it. That way you will realise your dreams. It is as simple as that but maybe not so easy. Setting your intention is half the battle and then believing you can achieve it is a major hurdle…The portal is easy though. It has been set up for you to step through. All you have to do is state clearly where you want to go.”

“Um – the Inn on Serpentine Road then.” No sooner had she said the words than the elf faded from view. For a moment there was a weird wavering in the air then Almurta found herself staring at the balcony of the Inn. The tattered remnants of prayer flags hung up months ago danced in the breeze. A group of donkeys corralled near brayed in excitement at the sight of her. Stunned, Almurta headed towards them.

“Back on the road again,” sang a small scruffy looking animal in an off key voice. “Want a lift then,” she added with a cheeky grin.

Almurta rides again

Almurta sighed. For weeks now she’d been staying at a Retreat deep in the forest. The House of Memories, Leonie, the woman who had led her here called it. ‘I think it would be a good place for you to stay for a while,’ she’d said. ‘You seem only half with it. It’s like your past is stopping you being fully alive in the present.’

Almurta had protested but she knew Leonie had a point. Some days it felt like memories of her past hung around her like a ghostly shroud. A cloak of cobwebs. Besides, she was finding it hard to keep up with Leonie and the other wild women of the forest. They plunged on and on through the ever thickening trees as she stumbled and floundered behind them. Even mounted on Shadow, the donkey that had carried her deep into the wilds of Lenore, she had difficulty in staying alert enough to avoid overhanging branches. All she wanted to do was put her head down and sleep, sleep, sleep.

At the House of Memories she got her wish. Everyday around sunset the ancient crone who guarded the place bought her a steaming bowl of Mnemosyne, a sweet scented herbal tea. Almurta gulped down the stuff greedily and then fell into a sleep that carried her through to the following midday. While asleep her past unrolled in her mind like a movie – a technicolour extravaganza enhanced with tactile sensations, scents and odours.

For over a month Almurta lived in this state. Each day during the short hours she was awake she reflected on the memories that had been revealed to her the previous night. She filled page after page of her journal with written and visual recollections until the flow of memories dwindled.

Eventually the nightly dose of Mnemosyne did little more than give her a headache. The crone shrugged. ‘Perhaps it’s time to move on,’ she said with an enigmatic grin. Almurta scribbled in her journal and began to consider her future beyond Lenore. Nothing was certain. Her ticket on the cruise ship, S.S.Vulcania, had been arranged for her by friends. ‘Take a break,’ they had said. ‘You are exhausted and your resources are depleted. Take a break to unwind and recuperate. Everything will be here waiting for when you get back.’

Thinking about their kind words, Almurta sighed. That was it, everything would still be there waiting for her when she did get back to her day-to-day life beyond Lemurian shores. Nothing would have changed. She’d still be down on her luck, her resources would still be depleted and her options would still be limited. She visualized bright, bold futures for herself but they lacked authenticity. She could not quite bring herself to believe in them. My shoes will still have holes them, she thought in the secret depths of her mind. Despondent, she covered a journal page with a mesh of interlocking lines.

That pretty much sums it all up, she thought with satisfaction as she surrounded the image with a black border. I’m boxed in.

A wild braying interrupted her thoughts. Startled, Almurta looked up to see Shadow’s black head pushing in through her open window. ‘I’ve been sent to fetch you,’ he said in his usual morose way.

‘Shadow!’ Almurta closed her journal with a flourish and flung herself on the donkey’s neck. ‘I’ve missed you.’

The donkey snorted with what could have been empathy or possibly derision. It was impossible to know. ‘Hurry up, it’s time you moved on,’ he said.

Almurta grabbed her bags, bid farewell to the old crone and leapt onto Shadow’s back. The moment she was seated the donkey broke into an ungainly gallop and careened off towards the mountains which towered over the Retreat.

‘Funny,’ said Almurta. ‘I don’t remember seeing those mountains before.’

‘That’s Lemuria for you. Things come and go, appear and disappear as the need arises. Quite frankly I wish some of them would just stay disappeared. These mountains for instance. The Mountains of the Moon they call them. The Mountains of Ghouls would be a more appropriate name in my opinion.’

‘Can’t we avoid them. They really don’t sound like somewhere I want to be.’

‘Me either, but no, we can’t avoid them. There’s something in you that has caused them to appear at this moment and I, as your guide, your shadow if you will, am destined to carry you through them… Or perish with you in them,’ the donkey added as an afterthought, his voice sepulchral.

‘This is sounding worse and worse,’ Almurta sighed.

‘At least its movement,’ said Shadow. ‘You seemed pretty stuck back there.’

‘Mmm, I guess,’ said Almurta as a dank mist crept around them and the day became monochromatic. A high pitched keening came to them from higher up.

‘Please tell me that’s wind and not those terrible Harpies we met once before,’ Almurta said with a shudder.

‘It’s far worse than either of those,’ said Shadow seeming to shudder also. ‘It’s Banshees. Let’s just hope we don’t meet them. It’s certain death for both of us if we do.’

‘Look,’ said Almurta firmly, ‘I really don’t want to be doing this. Shadow I want you to take me back to the Retreat immediately.’

‘No can do princess. I take my orders from one far more powerful than you. It’s E herself who directs me. I’ve been told to fetch you from the Retreat and take you where your subconscious mind leads us so that’s what I’m doing. It’s not me that called these mountains into being or populated them with Banshees.’ Shadow brayed loudly and plunged on into the mist.

Almurta pulled on the reins trying to halt his progress but the animal could not be stopped. ‘Don’t you get it,’ he said as he pulled violently against the tug of the reins and nearly sent the two of them toppling down into a wide chasm which had suddenly opened up beside them. ‘Its all coming from you and stop pulling on those reins. You’ll break both our necks and then the Banshees will surely be upon us,’

‘How can it be coming from me?’ Almurta said as she let the reins go limp. ‘I think my subconscious is in pretty good shape these days. I’ve just spent the last month going over my personal past resolving issues. I’ve got a fairly clear idea of just what my subconscious makeup is.’

Shadow gave a wild bray. It sounded exactly like hysterical laughter. The sound mingled with the cry of the Banshees and echoed in a mournful, desolate wail across the rocky cliffs. ‘That’s just it,’ said Shadow. ‘You’ve spent weeks going over stuff, remembering this detail and that detail, pouring over your recollections as if they hold the key to who you are. Yet you still lament your fate. You still flounder about wondering why you can’t ever make it to your own Eldorado, your own city of gold where your deepest dreams are fulfilled. You’ll never get there the way you’re going.’

‘What are you talking about? Of course past events influence who I am now. Everyone knows that. It’s basic psychology.’ Almurta thrust her nose in the air and looked the other way as the chasm yawned wider still.

Shadow brayed again. This time there was a hint of panic in the sound. ‘Wake up girlie,’ he screamed. ‘You’ll lead us into peril with that attitude. Of course past events play a part in who you are now but it’s not the events themselves that are issue. It’s how you feel you feel about them. It’s how those events have influenced the way you think about life.’

‘Go on,’ said Almurta in a small voice. The chasm closed slightly.

‘Well,’ said Shadow in a pedantic tone. He did love airing his knowledge and people so seldom asked him what he thought. ‘There’s more to healing past pain than simply acknowledging that it happened. You have to recognize how it’s affected you the way you think and how that thinking is impacting on your life even now.’

‘That’s private,’ said Almurta straightening up. ‘I’d rather not say.’ Shadow’s words cut into her exposing layers of feeling. There was fear, resentment, anger, sadness. All the usual stuff.

‘How have those feelings influenced your thinking?’ Shadow said, his voice cutting through the waves of self pity that were threatening to engulf her.

‘My thinking…’ Almurta muttered. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about that.’ Shadow nodded in an encouraging kind of way. ‘I guess,’ said Almurta in a faltering voice, ‘it made me think I’m not good enough, that I don’t deserve success. Stuff like that.’

Shadow gave a loud snort of relief, the chasm beside them closed and the keening of the Banshees faded. ‘Exactly,’ the donkey brayed. ‘Now the trick is to challenge that thinking. You have to ask yourself if those thoughts are really true. Ask where they came from. Examine how holding those beliefs has influenced your life up to this point. Eliminate negative thinking and replace it with positive affirmations. In so doing you open the way to finding your path to your Eldorado.’

Almurta listened to Shadow’s words and let their meaning sink into her. There was truth there she knew. If, she reasoned, her view of herself as not good enough was an erroneous belief that she had absorbed from others, she did not need to carry it around any more. It was false thinking. It just wasn’t true.

As she mulled over this new thought the mist around her cleared. Shadow climbed steadily upward into an expansive realm of ridge tops and blue sky. Almurta threw up her arms and gave a whoop of joy as they topped the last ridge. ‘Steady on girl,’ Shadow cried as he struggled to maintain his balance. ‘You still have a lot of work to do. You’ve made a break through but there is still much entrenched thinking about yourself that needs to be challenged and dismantled.’ A rock that had been dislodged by the animal’s hoofs plummeted downward, shattering into fragments as it went. Almurta watched it fall suddenly aware that the route ahead was far from straightforward. A narrow path twisted down a precipitous drop to deep, shaded valley far below. Beyond it hills rolled away to a distant horizon where a stretch of cobalt blue sea shimmered.

The sea was long way off. Negotiating the treacherous cliffs and the valley of shadows would be difficult. Almurta realized there were many inner demons to challenge before she stood on that far shore. Still she felt hopeful, perhaps the dark places before would lighten up with self awareness, much as the chasm had closed when she’d confronted the thoughts that had caused it. Already the dark painful places deep in her psyche felt less heavy. There was a new sense of expansiveness, a sense that she could influence her own destiny.

The future felt lighter than the past.

Letting go and moving on

Coming out from behind the mask

Almurta’s last post

‘We will leave you here Almurta,’ said Leonie at the edge of the balcony jutting out from the House of Serpents. Her companions were already drifting silently back into the forest. A woman led Shadow and placed his bridle in Almurta’s hand. He hung back as if reluctant to join the crowd on the balcony.

‘The Feast of Serpents is about to commence,’ said Leonie. ‘You should hurry is you want a good viewing spot. I’ve heard it is well worth seeing.’

‘Why don’t you women stay then?’ asked Almurta.

Leonie shrugged. ‘We’re forest people, not party people,’ she said.

Almurta looked at the throng on the balcony and wondered if she could still remember how to be a party person. The flamboyant clothing of the party goers flashed in the sunlight as they gathered round a table laden with a sumptuous feast. Many had hung up their offerings of intricately decorated and inscribed prayer flags. Almurta’s hung there too, its glowing colours symbolising her prayer for healing. The image she had printed on it of a figure striding out joyfully seemed impossibly optimistic. Her journey across Lenore had been demanding and there had been times of deep self analysis. The Serpentine Road had extended her to the point of exhaustion. It had all been engrossing and she had learnt much but she was tired of travelling. Bone weary.

Before the women’s concert Almurta had spent days sitting with them at their camp beneath the trees. The gentle murmur of the voices had soothed her as the women spoke of their quests deep into the forest where they fought against ancient evils and dark forces. Although their battles were fierce and terrifying the women spoke of their victories with humility. Their failures they listed with honesty. The stories touched Almurta and resonated with her own. She felt a sense of belonging and her tiredness lifted.

The hubbub on the balcony called her back to the present. Snippets of clever repartee drifted across to her as more and more people joined the group. A sudden hush fell upon them as serpents slithered out of the forest and onto the banquet table. L’Enchanteur presided over the proceedings as the snakes ate and drank. ‘They are all great people,’ thought Almurta. ‘Gifted and talented every one of them. E is a remarkable woman. I’m just not sure I can keep up with them any more.’

As the snakes finished their meal and slipped back into the forest a sudden gust of wind swept across the balcony. Flags bumped against each other. The string supporting Almurta’s jerked and broke. The wind caught the cloth and lifted it above the trees. For a moment the light shone through the gauzy cloth and the figure upon it appeared to dance across the sky. As Almurta watched it hovered an instant and then was tossed higher and higher by the wind until it was no more than a smudge of colour. She glanced back at the forest to see Leonie disappearing among the trees.

‘Leonie,’ she called lightly as she tugged on Shadow’s bridle and ran after the woman. ‘Leonie can I come with you.’

The woman turned and smiled. ‘Of course,’ she said.

Almurta’s prayer flag

SKINNED

Almurta approached the House of Serpents on foot. Beside her walked Leonie, the woman who had come to her aid at the cave of the undead. Around them strode other women of her tribe. All were bare breasted and many had one or both breasts removed. They wore their scars with impunity. ‘We are survivors,’ they said. Behind them trailed the donkey pack, Shadow among them. He seemed happy to be with others of his kind and a lopsided donkey grin was slathered all over his face.

The music Almurta had heard the women playing the night before still echoed in her mind. Just after sunset the women had taken her to a natural amphitheatre deep in the forest. Cushions and rugs were strewn over a section of the embankment. Many of the women carried music instruments and took positions to the front of the seating area. Almurta took her place with the women towards the rear who reclined back on the cushions and soft grassy slopes.

On the far side of the amphitheatre a white water river cascaded down in a rush of sound. As darkness fell a woman plucked her guitar strings. One by one other instruments joined in until the space was filled with music that meshed and merged with the sound of falling water. Horns gave forth plaintive wails that were answered by long chords from electronic organs. The wafting notes of a flute seemed to dance and skip across the top of the wall of sound.

Far above stars glittered like ice crystals in the velvet black sky. The night was warm and Almurta felt cocooned within the soundscape. As the music soared then fell to hush then soared again she was swept up by it and carried to a place beyond words, beyond thought. The sounds seemed to flow into her body and reach down into her to touch her being on a cellular level. The energy of the sound vibrated through her revitalizing her body and washing away accumulated stresses. For an unaccountable length of time she became pure sound.

After midnight the moon rose. The women ceased their playing and returned to their camp. Almurta fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. She woke dawn to the gentle sound of rain dripping melodically down the sides of her canvas tent. It seemed the perfect ending to a magical night.

Now as the women walked the world had a washed clean look, a sparkling freshness. Some way in front of them a building seemed to shimmer in the light as if it was partly constructed from air. ‘The House of Serpents,’ said Leonie. ‘You will be required to make an offering before you can be admitted.’

‘Another one!’ Almurta muttered to herself. ‘I’m running out of ideas.’ Leonie ignored her and led the way through a series of white stone archways that led to an open balcony. Thousands of silvery snake skins hung across the intervening spaces rustling faintly in the breeze. The shed skins were almost translucent and tissue paper thin. They had an opalescent sheen that shimmered in the light. Almurta was transfixed by them.

‘I feel I have shed a layer of skin myself since I came to Lemuria,’ she thought. ‘It is as if I have been stripped of some outer membrane that I had developed in order to cope with the demands of life in the world beyond these shores; that world that places so much emphasis on outer success while neglecting to nurture the inner being. The experiences I’ve had since coming here have stripped much of that outer skin from me. I feel less worldly now yet more open to life.’

A tall, elegant woman came toward her. ‘Welcome to the House of Serpents,’ she said in an imperious tone. ‘What offering do you make?’

‘I offer you layer of skin,’ said Almurta without hesitation.

Almurta gets wild

Shadow had been at his most taciturn self all day. Almurta kept trying to draw him into conversation but he only grunted in reply. For some hours she had been watching a storm draw ever closer. ‘I think we should stop,’ she kept saying. Almost pleading really. The clouds broiling in from the horizon were a dark greenish grey. Lightening bolts pierced the gloom and the sound of thunder rolled almost continuously. Shadow trotted on and on towards it. His ears were flattened back against his head and his neck was arched in stubborn defiance to Almurta’s urging. As they journeyed they passed several brightly lit Inns. The sound of hearty laughter and voices raised in song drifted to them from open doorways. ‘Look Shadow,’ Almurta would say as he trotted past them. ‘We could stay there until the storm blows out.’ The animal appeared not to hear her.

Signs of habitation were becoming further and further apart as the storm advanced towards them. The Serpentine Road wound this way and that through dense thickets of trees until a broad curve bought the pair out onto an exposed stretch of road that snaked around cliff tops. In other circumstances the view would have been breath taking. Glossy black rocks fell away steeply to the sea. Waves crashed at their base sending up clouds of salt spray. The wind picked up the spray and hurled it at Almurta making her eyes sting. Huge cloud banks towered up over a churning leaden grey sea illuminated every few seconds by flashes of sheet lightening. Almurta clung onto Shadow’s bridle and clamped her legs firmly against his flanks. ‘We should turn back,’ she yelled to the donkey but her words were whipped away by the wind and the animal charged on.

As they neared the cliff tops the wind increased in ferocity. It shrieked as the full intensity of the storm was suddenly upon them. Pieces of debris went flying past. Instinctively Almurta raised one arm across her face and shut her eyes. The shrieking increased and she felt the brush of wings across her arm. Talons raked across her flesh. She opened her eyes and stared into a pair of wild dark eyes in a contorted female face. Below the face was the body of a bird. The creature gave a harsh cry of rage. Black wings beat the air and it flew off to join others of its kind sweeping in from the sea.

‘What are they?’ Almurta’s heart pounded.

‘Harpies,’ said Shadow. ‘Ancient harbingers of the storm. We are deep in Lemuria now and are travelling through mythic territory. We must take shelter from this storm.’

‘I’ve been saying that,’ said Almurta but the animal ignored her. He increased his pace and galloped in an ungainly way towards the dark wooded hills that lay just inland from their present position. Lightening rent the sky then a clap of thunder boomed so loudly Almurta felt her ear drums might burst. Heavy drenching rain commenced and visibility was reduced to a few metres. Almurta leant close over Shadow’s back praying they would find shelter soon. The rain was icy and she began to shiver uncontrollably.

Just when she thought she could hang on no more Shadow entered a dimly lit cavern. The rain ceased, the wind dropped away and for the first time that day Almurta felt safe. She slipped from Shadow’s back and hunted through the saddle bags for a towel and dry clothing. The wound inflicted by the harpy stung with a vicious stabbing pain. “Ow, that hurts,” Almurta said without realising she had spoken aloud.

‘Does it?’ said Shadow with sudden interest. ‘That’s not a good a sign. I wonder just what kind of cave we have found.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Those kind of wounds only hurt when there is evil around. It means we are danger.’ Just as Shadow spoke the cavern was illuminated by lightening. The walls of their shelter were exposed. Strange beings huddled together in the dim recesses stared out at them with dead eyes.

‘Just as I suspected. Zombies,’ said Shadow. ‘The undead. The heat of our bodies will invigorate them. You must be on your guard Almurta. They will try to steal your life energy. Don’t let them touch you.’

Almurta backed up against the animal. With each flash of lightening she was able to discern more of their strange companions. The bodies were swathed in grey garments that hung about them like fog so that their forms remained indistinct. Long thin necks supported ghoulish heads where eyes in sunken sockets glowered. With each burst of lightening they appeared to have inched closer.

‘They’re waking up,’ Shadow said, somewhat unnecessarily Almurta thought. He seemed to be getting perverse pleasure out of the experience. She could not shake the feeling that he had bought her here on purpose just to see what she would do. The shivering induced by the rain gave way to a shivering induced by fear. The gaunt faces surrounding her had a gothic quality that seemed to paralyse her thoughts. The storm outside raged unabated. The fear she felt was primal and beyond the reach of her conscious mind.

‘This is what happens when you travel with your Shadow,’ the donkey said, his voice sombre. ‘You get to see your own dark side. Your fears and weaknesses.’

‘Thanks a lot,’ said Almurta. ‘I knew you were on a mission today. So now what do you expect me to do? These creatures are creeping up on us really fast.’ The wound on her arm throbbed and she gave a small scream of fear as lightening revealed one creature a few metres away. It would be upon her in minutes.

‘What you do is entirely up to you,’ said Shadow. ‘You can huddle in fear and let the creatures overtake you or you can find something inside yourself that will lead you to safety.’

Suddenly Almurta was angry. She was angry with the donkey for leading her into danger, angry with the creatures themselves for their fearful attributes and angry with something far beyond the immediate situation. It was as if all the societal pressure she felt to be nice, to accommodate other beings unpleasant behaviours, to always, like so many women she knew, apologise even when she knew she’d done nothing wrong, boiled up into a rage of colossal proportions. ‘I’m not going to put up with all this freaking rubbish any longer,’ she shouted. Her voice reverberated off the cavern walls and boomed across the space. The next bolt of lightening revealed that the creatures had fallen back slightly. Almurta took advantage of the momentary respite. She reached into the saddle bag and grabbed the first thing that came to hand. A long sleeved T shirt. She twisted the garment into a rope like shape and then knotted the ends of sleeves into a large ball. Holding it with both hands she swung it wildly in front of her as she backed towards the cavern entrance. It wasn’t much of a weapon but it would hold the creatures at bay.

‘I’m leaving,’ she yelled at Shadow. ‘I really don’t care what you do you. I’m getting out of here.’ The anger surged through her body giving her an adrenaline rush of energy.

Shadow gave a loud hee-haw. ‘Good for you,’ he brayed. ‘That’s exactly what I’d hoped you do. Jump on my back and I’ll take you to safety.’

‘You said that before and you carried me here. I think I’d be better off alone.’

‘He won’t betray you again,’ said a voice from the entrance. ‘You have passed the test.’

Almurta glanced behind her. A strapping bare chested woman carrying a burning torch stood silhouetted in the entrance. The light caused the zombies to fall back even further. ‘Come,’ she said. ‘I am one of the guardians of the Serpentine Road. I will take you to our camp where you can wait out the storm in safety. Shadow will follow behind you.’

Almurta’s sole

Down the Serpentine Road Almurta wound with Shadow. Just how many twists and turns they’d rambled round she couldn’t say. The road had a sameness to it that dulled the senses. ‘There is a woman I want you to meet,’ Shadow said jolting her out of the stupor she had fallen into. ‘She is the guardian of the House of Soles.’

Almurta had a vision of a macabre haunt where disembodied souls wafted about in ethereal plumes of smoke. ‘I’d rather not go there,’ she said.

‘E had suggested all you travellers visit the place,’ Shadow replied in a tone that suggested there was no point in arguing.

Almurta slipped back into her daze. Although she had metaphorically surrendered her worries about the future at the Serpentine Road portal she was finding it hard to divest herself of them entirely. She had woken that morning aching and dizzy. Her thoughts were clouded and she knew the malaise that ailed her had flared again. It was all she could do to clutch at Shadow’s bridle and remain upright in the saddle. When the donkey stopped suddenly she lurched forward and only just saved herself from falling headlong into a woman that sat in a tree directly in front of her.

‘Ah a visitor,’ said the woman. ‘Welcome to my abode. You are free to wander at will. All I ask is that you leave your sole.’

‘My soul,’ cried Almurta in alarm. ‘What kind of Faustian bargain centre is this?’

‘S.O.L.E.’ the woman enunciated with a disparaging shrug. ‘What would I want with your soul, you fool? It’s an imprint of the sole of your foot that I desire. I ask that you inscribe upon it a record of where you left your footprints before and where you plan to leave them in future.’

Almurta slumped down in the saddle ‘Where I have left my footprints,’ she groaned. ‘What is this Lenorian fixation of looking at the past?’ She paused in thought. ‘As to where I plan to leave my footprints in future, well I haven’t got a clue. I’ve no idea where I’m heading. That’s why I’m taking this journey. To try and figure that out.’ Her face was red and she wondered for a moment if she was about to throw up.

‘Exactly,’ said the woman in the tree. ‘If you can’t say where you have been how will you know where you are going?’

‘I don’t think this is a good idea,’ Almurta whispered to Shadow. ‘I feel sick.’

‘Just go with it,’ Shadow advised in an undertone. ‘It will all work out if you don’t resist the experience.’

Almurta sighed and tried to think of places where she left her footprints. She had left her genetic footprint on her children, the physical imprint of her foot upon the earth, her energy footprint on the environment (though she was trying to lighten that one). No doubt her stumbling through life had left its mark on others, its footprint, just as others had left their mark on her. Sometimes a gentle touch, sometimes a clumsy bruising foot fall. She slid down from Shadow’s back and made an imprint of her bare foot in the modelling clay the woman indicated. Taking up a stick she then made a tracery of footprints she had left in life on the indented clay.

‘I still have no clear idea of where I’m going,’ she said to the woman when she had finished. ‘I would like to travel a path that utilises my creative potential, I would like to walk closer to my innermost self yet I do not know how to map the way to these things.’

‘As the ancient Chinese said, the longest journey starts with a single step,’ Shadow said with a know-it-all air of complacency.

‘Yes but you have to know which way to step,’ Almurta retorted.

‘You’re over thinking it,’ said the woman in the tree. ‘Just state those things you listed as your intentions every time you feel lost and you will find your way to them.’

‘I don’t think it’s a simple as that,’ said Almurta. ‘I think I have to set concrete goals. I definitely need a plan.’

‘Perhaps you do, perhaps you don’t. These things can be as simple or as complicated as you chose to make them.’ The woman gave an enigmatic smile and began to disappear in the manner of the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland. Her smile lingered the longest.

‘Well I guess that’s it,’ said Shadow when the smile had disappeared.

The woman’s words however remained as the footprint of an idea lodged in Almurta’s mind. ‘Perhaps it is as simple as stating my intentions,’ she mused as she mounted Shadow and they continued on their way.