Chapter 9: The dungeon

Leana followed Garsoon’s instructions, and sure enough, she soon found herself in the bowels of the castle. Nothing in her life or experience had prepared her for this. Nothing could compare, not even the gruesome events she had witnessed at Black Annis’ cave. In these dungeons, deep below the castle of the king, Leana was confronting pure, absolute and unrelenting evil for the first time in her life. This evil was not born of magic or of witchcraft, but of simple hopelessness and human misery. 

Leana slipped into the shadows as she spotted a guard. She covered her head and shoulders with Wounded Child’s shawl. She crouched down, and held herself still and quiet. And, as she did, her feelings overwhelmed her. Feelings poured into her, and from her, and she felt the lives that had been lived by the poor and wretched souls who now inhabited these cells. 

She felt the pain of childbirth, and of disease, and too young mortality. She felt the hunger of poverty, she felt the desperation and hope that lay deep in the heart of the thief, and she felt the upright and authentic nature of those who had spoken their truth, and the hideous torture and torment they suffered at the hands of their oppressors. She felt the white rage of the murderer, the power driven and sometimes obscene lechery of the rapist, and the degradation, shame and loneliness of the prostitute and the rent boy. She knew what it was to be outcast, and she felt depravity, and malice, and regret, and remorse. And more than anything, she felt fear and terror, and her eyes stared wildly, her mind barely able to comprehend the extent of this suffering. 

She felt it all, and her young heart swelled with compassion. Death would be more merciful. 

“Mother of Light and Mother of Darkness” she prayed, “Please comfort and soothe these souls, and give them peace. Let them know that they are loved and that there is hope.” 

Leana was sweating and her heart raced. For a while her confidence faltered, and she was not sure she could go on. She was only small, just a small six year old girl. So much depended on her, but she was so small. 

How was it that so much depended on her? Her friends were depending on her, and she had promised to return. And the frog depended on her, for that is why she was here. And she felt that something greater depended on her too, although she could not see, nor feel, nor think what this might be. She gathered her strength. 

She could see the guards, huddled together by the main door to the dungeons. They swigged beer and laughed loudly, as they tossed coins in their animated game of cross and pile. 

“Swindler!” yelled one of the guards, taking a drunken swing at one of his companions. As the tussle broke out, Leana took her chance. Light-footed, she crept along the walls, feeling pleading and grasping hands reaching through the bars as she passed them. 

Garsoon had described a secret stairway, hidden behind a panel, which could only be opened by the chief guard. Leana located the panel, took position, and waited. It seemed to take such a very long time, but one by one the guards left, until only the chief guard remained. Checking he was alone, he made his way to the panel, opened it and stepped into the darkness, unaware of the small child who followed silently in his shadow. 

Once inside, Leana hid herself and waited again, her small heart pounding so loudly that she was sure it would give her away. From where she sat, Leana could not see the guard, or the business he was attending to. She could not see the dungeon, and did not know if the frog was there. 

“Trust.” she said to herself, “Trust, and all will be well.” 

After some time, the guard climbed the stairs. Leana shrank further back into the shadows before she was plunged into complete darkness, as the guard and his torch made their way through the panel, closing it again to hide its secret from the world. 

Having waited for a few moments, Leana felt her way down the stairs in the darkness, using her internal brightness only once she had reached the ground, and was sure her light would not be seen from the other side of the panel. 

“Oh Frog!” she exclaimed, “Oh Frog, what have they done to you?!” 

She rushed to him, and wrapped her arms as far as they would go about him. 

“Dear Frog, your light has gone out. What can I do to help?” 

The frog was too weak to speak, but Leana’s presence brought back some of his lustre. 

“Trust” she thought again, “Trust, and all will be well” 

She looked about her, and saw the tiny figures that Garsoon had told her about. Rather than lining the walls, they were embedded into it, their hard exteriors protecting an inner softness that Leana dimly recognised. Leana pulled Wounded Child’s shawl closer, and made her way over to the wall, reaching out to touch the figures with respect and reverence. As she did so, the light of hope that Garsoon had described shining from their eyes became brighter. 

“What shall I do?” she asked 

A thousand or more tiny whispers echoed around the room. 

“Trust” they whispered, “Trust, and all will be well.” 

“Our bodies have been encased, but our spirits cannot be hardened. We hold the secrets of your heart Leana. We are the guardians of your deepest fears, and your deepest desires. Take this gift, which contains all the magic you need.” 

One of the small figures had become detached from the wall, although Leana could not see any sign of where it had been. She picked it up and felt its smoothness, and how it fitted perfectly into her hand. It was beautifully formed, sweet and soft, despite the hardness of the clay from which it had been crafted. Its dark blue eyes shone simultaneously with both sadness and with hope. 

The figure was bound, like a baby wrapped in swaddling, safe and secure, and it held a small box at its front. Materially it was a lovely object, but Leana knew there was much more to it. She felt its eternal and spiritual nature, and she felt belonging. This small clay figure was part of her, and it was part of Wounded Child.

She looked up at the wall again, and saw the hope shining from dozens of pairs of tiny eyes. 

“They have hope because of me!” she thought “They are depending on me!” 

As these thoughts flashed through her mind, she noticed the smiles appearing on the faces of the figurines, and she knew that fate would protect her. 

She returned to the frog, and sat for a while holding the small effigy, running her fingers along its contours. She looked deep into its dark blue eyes. 

“Help me, please. Help me.” 

And then she trusted, and she waited, and she slept peacefully, knowing that all would be well. And when she woke it was because the dungeon was light, and that was because the frog was shining with its old intensity. 

“Quick!” he said, “Jump on my back so that we can collect the others, and set the next chain of events in motion”