Oodrosil remembered the first time Ohman had sat in its shade, seeking respite from Sigela’s daily passage across the sky. The tree had known at their first meeting that the young Drayoom was special.
All through their first summer together, Ohman rested each day beneath Oodrosil’s limbs. Soon, Ohman began to confide in the tree, telling of his affections for a beautiful girl—the young Nabharia. Ohman was passionately in love, but feared Nabharia did not share his affections.
One blistering summer day, Ohman came over the hill, holding hands with a young woman who could only have been Nabharia. The lovers settled beneath Oodrosil’s body and held each other, leaning against the trunk of the wizened yew. At first, Oodrosil was happy for his friend, but as soon as Nabharia touched his bark, the old tree grew concerned. He did not sense any love for Ohman inside of the woman. He only felt a great passion and ambition for power.
Oodrosil yearned to warn his friend of the woman’s true nature, but the tree had not yet learned to speak with Oodrosil’s kind. After that day, Oodrosil did not see Ohman for many years. The yew tree grew sad, thinking that it never would be with its friend again.
After many years, Ohman finally did return one day, walking slower than before but stronger in his magic. The Drayoom had grown, having long since remembered his creation name and having come into the apex of his power. To Oodrosil’s surprise and pleasure, Ohman could now understand the tree’s words and could speak his language as well.
Ohman told the tree that he wanted Oodrosil to always be near and that he was the only friend on whom he could truly depend. Oodrosil did not want to move from his home, but once Ohman shared his secret and explained his plans for the future of all Drayoom, Oodrosil agreed to move with him to the human world.
Since that day, only five or so years ago, the tree and the Drayoom had been inseparable and had talked every day. Now, because of Ohman’s murderer, Oodrosil would no longer have that pleasure.
Though it had been fifty some odd years since first tasting Nabharia’s lust for power, the mighty yew immediately recognized her essence in the spittle from Ohman’s murderer that ran down its bark. The great tree was certain that the Drayoom was of Nabharia’s bloodline.
If Oodrosil could have, he would have acted immediately, smiting the killer, taking vengeance for its friend. But Oodrosil was of the earth, and like Terrada, the tree was slow and deliberate in its strength. All the tree could do at the moment was to stretch its roots as far as they would reach and send the news of Ohman’s murder to all the creatures of the earth, far and wide.
Oodrosil continued sending its message through the core of the world until its smaller branches withered and fell to the lobby floor from the exertion. When Oodrosil had no more strength, it folded its magic into itself and rested, consoled only slightly that, in the end, Nabharia’s son would pay for taking Ohman’s life.
PART THREE
From the Tale of Abred
ABRED LONGED FOR ANOTHER of his kind, for he was incomplete and alone among the other forms of life in the world.
As he lay dreaming one night, he saw a vision of one who was like him, and yet different. When he looked upon the creature, he felt empty inside as if he had not eaten for days. When he awoke, he was surrounded by a wall of fire and knew that Sigela was near.
A torrent of ashes and embers spilled out of the flames and landed near him. As he watched, a form rose up from the ashes and they became like unto the creature of which he had dreamed. He touched its shoulder and felt skin like his own.
Sigela spoke, saying that this was a woman and that her name was Gwynfyd. She was a gift from Sigela and would always serve as a reminder of the love Sigela had for him.
Gwynfyd and Abred embraced and made love under the star-filled night sky and though the flames surrounding him had turned to mere flickers, he smoldered inside like never before.
Afterwards, as they slept holding each other, Abred dreamed of fire again and awoke. Abred and Gwynfyd made love again and again until they were thirsty. He went to fetch water from the nearby stream, silently thanking Sigela as he walked along.
From that day forward, Abred and Gwynfyd discovered joy and contentment together. Their happiness never burned as hot as their initial fire, but it warmed them continuously through each day of their lives. Abred began to think of Gwynfyd like the earth, comforting and strong throughout her seasons and like the water with her own monthly ebbs and flows.
One night while they slept nestled together in a field of tall grain, Sigela made Abred’s insides burn so hot that he awoke from the pain. Gwynfyd tried to calm him, but Abred could only be doused by taking her, this time against her will. When he was spent and his fire cooled, he turned away from Gwynfyd in shame. He hated what he had done and blamed the fire. The following winter was cold for Abred and Gwynfyd in many ways.
CHAPTER 14
MERRICK AND CARA followed the three silent figures for close to an hour. The men plodded along, pausing only when Merrick and Cara lagged too far behind and needed to catch up. During one of these instances, Cara whispered to Merrick that they would be safe once inside the mountain. The men they were following were Keepers—entrusted with the clan’s collected knowledge of the Earth Dragon’s language. Their silence was not meant as offense, but was the product of training—to be sparing with words—treating them like the vessels of power they were.
Merrick found it harder to breathe as they climbed higher, eventually reaching the base of the mountain. He wondered what Cara had meant about being safe once inside the mountain. Did the Earth Clan live in catacombs like ants in the dirt? It seemed strange to him that creatures who commanded the elements would subject themselves to living in such hardship.
He scanned the rocky wall for the entrance to some sort of tunnel. He turned to ask Cara how they were supposed to get in, just as their three guides walked through the rock face in front of them, as if it were an illusion. Before he could ask, Cara took hold of him by his elbow, softly spoke a sound like stones rolling down a hill, and pulled him through the cold stone wall to the other side.
Looking back, he expected to see a wall of raw stone, but was shocked to behold a great archway at least fifty feet tall at its keystone, adorned with ornate symbols carved directly into the mountain. The rich detail of the arch rivaled any human-made sculptures he knew of, and the structure was so smooth that it appeared to be made of fluid satin instead of rock.
Merrick hurried to catch up with Cara and the others as they entered a wide tunnel that was dimly lit by an unknown source. They traversed the uneven pathway that plunged ever downward, switching direction left and right every twenty feet or so. After about fifteen minutes, the path opened into an enormous, brightly lit cave that was larger than any he had ever seen or heard of before. He covered his eyes then blinked them rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden glare. As his vision adapted, an underground world came into focus.
They stood on a stone landing halfway up the inside wall of a cavern that went on for miles. It was so large, he couldn’t see its end, and its ceiling was so brightly lit that it was like discovering a second sky inside the earth.
A stairway had been carved into the stone beneath them, descending to the edge of a thick evergreen forest. From their vantage point, he could see a trail winding through those woods and then spilling out onto a stone-paved road in the distance.
The road was only one of dozens that appeared to converge like spokes beyond the cave’s artificial horizon. Thousands of dwellings, made mostly of what looked like stone and trees, dotted the cavern floor, more densely grouped together the closer they were to the center of the cavern.
The terrain itself was more varied than that of the outside Highlands, interspersed with running streams, brightly flowering plants, farmlands, and what looked like fruit-bearing trees. It was as if someone had created a small city within an underground national park.
As he looked around in wonder and then at Cara, their silent g
uides pulled back their hoods. Two of the Keepers were strong-jawed men with long, braided reddish brown hair and beards, whereas the third was a female with walnut-colored hair who possessed a raw beauty while still looking as strong and as fierce as her colleagues. All three were fair skinned and seemed to be of Nordic descent.
Without a word, they led Merrick and Cara down the stone steps to the forest below and then along the wooded trail. As they passed beneath the canopy of trees, Merrick wondered at how strange it was and yet how normal it felt to be walking through a forest hidden inside a mountain.
After making their way through the trail, they arrived at a road paved with irregularly sized stones carved with ornate Celtic-looking symbols. They followed the road, walking past crop fields with workers who paused in their tasks to stare.
As their group continued on, Merrick saw more and more dwellings that blended in with the natural surroundings, creating a single vision of mixed greens and browns. If it weren’t for the increasing number of people lining either side of the street, he would have thought that they were walking through another forest.
He breathed deeply as he went along, noticing that the air was cool and clean, fresher than any day he had experienced back in Northern Virginia and warmer than the Highlands outside.
The Keepers ignored the encroaching crowds as did Cara, but Merrick almost tripped a few times as he craned his neck to take in the inhabitants of the strange world. In contrast with the Keepers’ stoicism, the throng of people radiated palpable interest and energy. Most of them were staring at him and some at Cara, but all were whispering among themselves. He sensed excitement, but most of all he sensed fear.
At one point, he saw a young girl with jet-black hair, peeping out from behind a large tree trunk. Although beautiful, she attracted his attention because she held a glass jar with a cork stopper filled with what looked to be dozens of fireflies. He tried to point the girl out to Cara, but she was no longer there by the time Cara turned around to look.
After another hour of brisk walking, the grumbling crowd that followed them had grown to over a hundred. Just as Merrick was beginning to worry that the horde of people might turn violent, their group finally arrived at a large clearing where all the streets seemed to converge.
People milled around a fleet of carts set up with merchants displaying various products ranging from jewelry to fresh fruit. When Merrick arrived, the din of the marketplace fell to a hush. Their group walked through the now silent masses to a large stone building located at the back of the clearing.
Low entry steps led to a towering set of double doors laden with polished bark. Each door was embossed with half of a gold circle that connected at the center to form a full circle crisscrossed with finger-width lines, much like the window in Ohman’s office. Two large men who were certain to be soldiers or warriors of some kind stood guard. They wore tunics and kilts of heavy cloth, similar to the Scottish Tartan in form, but colored dark like the soil of the earth and devoid of the typical plaids more common to the attire. Each of the guards had a broadsword hanging by his side with a divinium hilt that pulsated in hues of green energy.
The Keepers strode past the guards and opened the large double doors. Cara followed with the same uncaring gait, although the guards stared at her and then at Merrick as he also entered the building.
After following the Keepers down another dimly lit passage with no noticeable light source, they emerged in a grand room crowded with all manner of people—warriors dressed like the guards outside, dignitaries wearing fine silk clothes, and others who reminded Merrick of politicians working the room. The chamber itself glowed with walls of polished gold, and its periphery was overgrown with shimmering green plants that should not have been able to survive without sunlight.
The greens and the gold played against each other, creating a balance of color and mood that Merrick had never experienced before. He forced himself to remember that he was in the middle of a stone city, somewhere inside a mountain in the Scottish Highlands—and that he was there to hide from his murderous brother and to discover how to control his magic. The reality of his dire situation muted his wonderment as he turned his gaze to the assemblage of people.
The three Keepers that had been their guides took their places at the end of a line of about thirteen men and women all dressed in different colored robes. The talking in the room dwindled until it was quiet except for the padding of Merrick and Cara’s feet on the stone floor.
They stopped when they reached the middle of the room. The people, all of whom had been unabashedly staring at him, turned their backs to him and looked toward the far end of the chamber. A thick, gnarled tree stood where Merrick would have sworn there had not been one just moments before. Its roots were interlaced with the floor, and its trunk continued up through the ceiling. A two-seated throne made of roughly hewn gold was set deep into the base of the old tree. An elderly, but graceful woman sat at one end of the throne. Her skin was the same parchment color as the inside of the tree, making her look like an aging version of a fairy elf.
The crowd cleared a space for Merrick and Cara to approach the woman in the tree. As they neared, four guards positioned themselves in front of them. Each carried thick, wizened branches that were more similar to logs than to sticks.
Suddenly, the old woman disappeared from view, and in the next instant she rose from out of the floor in front of Cara. She fixed Cara with a look of superiority. Cara lowered her head in an uncharacteristic show of submission.
He didn’t know who the elderly woman was, but he guessed that she was their Queen. He lowered his eyes as well. If people in the clan were already afraid of him, he didn’t want to fuel their fear by seeming confrontational to their leader. He glanced up a few times to see if the Queen was looking at him, but she remained motionless in front of Cara.
“Why have you brought this to our home?” the Queen finally said.
“He has only just realized his power a few days ago,” Cara said, her head still down. “He knows nothing of his strength or his family. Eudroch is searching for him, and my father saw fit to send him to you, my Queen, for protection.”
The old woman’s face soured at the mention of Ohman.
“I am not your Queen, and do not mention your father in this court again. The fact that he is the one who sent you would normally guarantee that the two of you left without your heads. The fact that this is why he sends you is intolerable. Without his craft, that thing is like a beacon that anyone could follow. You have brought my clan a gift of death.”
Merrick stepped forward, his head still bowed, but his eyes turned upward toward her. She turned toward him, and he lowered himself on one knee, bowing his head as deeply as he could.
“I only want a chance to learn and to help the clan as best as I can while I’m here.”
Cara turned and looked down at him in disbelief.
The Queen’s face betrayed a mix of amusement and contempt as she stared at him with dark eyes.
“You are a worse liar than Mayon, who was incapable of ever telling a mistruth. I know why you were sent—not to help our family, but for protection and for time—time to remember your creation name and time to build your power—all at the cost of what we have spent centuries to create.”
“I will help the clan, if given the chance…”
The Queen motioned for him to rise, and he did.
“That may be your intention, but it does not change the fact that your presence places my people in danger. As is our way, I will consult with the Earth Council about your request…although I feel I am already decided in this matter.”
The Queen turned away from him and raised her voice, speaking to everyone in the great room.
“This issue will be given the same attention and scrutiny as are all the decisions concerning the clan. This young man has our welcome until that decision has been reached.”
The Queen scanned the faces of the people in the room. Finally, her eyes rested on a
skinny, dark-haired boy in his early teens. The youth stood in front of a muscled, black-haired man wearing a guard’s uniform, with a large divinium club hanging from his leather belt.
“Balach, son of Fenton” the Queen said to the boy. “Take him to your home. Give him food to eat and a place to rest. The daughter of the betrayer will remain here to discuss these matters further.”
The Queen turned away but then looked back, addressing the man standing behind Balach.
“I trust your family will watch over him while the Earth Council reaches its decision and that you will keep him out of trouble. One misstep and he must leave. Am I clear, Fenton?”
Merrick noticed that Cara’s face lit up when she looked up at the man standing behind the boy. The man’s face remained stolid, with no glimmer of recognition.
“I shall gladly take that task, my Queen, and keep the lad at my home for the time being.”
Fenton put his hand on Balach’s shoulder.
“Do as the Queen has asked and take him to our home. Tell your mother I’ll be home after the council gathering. Get going and tell her to expect two guests for tonight and maybe longer.”
Balach’s eyes were wide with excitement, as he walked over to Merrick.
“Follow me,” he said.
Merrick looked to Cara for guidance. She nodded and turned to follow a dozen or so members of the crowd through an arched door in the back of the room. Fenton addressed two of the guards, pointing at Balach and Merrick, before he left the room.
Outside, a crowd was waiting. Their anxious faces showed confusion when they saw Merrick and Balach emerge from the building. Merrick walked with the young Balach across the clearing, while the two guards Fenton had been speaking with followed them. Merrick guessed that they had been ordered to make sure no harm came to young Balach and maybe even to protect Merrick himself. He was not yet a guest of the clan, but he wasn’t quite a prisoner yet either. Despite the Queen’s confidence that he would not be allowed to stay, as he looked around, he hoped that he would be given that chance. For some reason, he felt safe here.
The Conservation of Magic Page 12
