by Maggie Furey
‘You mean those mines were all excavated by the Dwelven?’ Taine asked in surprise.
‘He put the Sidrai to work cutting and polishing the gemstones. The greater part of the original mine network was excavated by the Oredai, though since Hellorin – disposed – of the Dwelven, he has used mortal slaves to continue the work, notwithstanding that they have no natural feel for tunnelling and for stone. To be underground was natural to the Dwelven, though the Sidrai spent a lot of time above ground, but not for mortals. Many of his human slaves die from overwork, lung diseases, accidents and cave-ins, but what is that to the Forest Lord, so long as he obtains his gems?’
‘You seem to be very familiar with the mines and the conditions underground,’ Taine commented.
‘Indeed I am – and that brings me to the final, tragic part of my tale. You will see that I am Hemifae, like yourselves, but you do not realise that I am the same as Taine – part Phaerie and part Wizard.’
‘The same as me?’ Taine’s mouth dropped open. ‘But I – but how—’ He put his hands up to his face, and when he took them away again, his eyes glistened. ‘I thought I was the only one,’ he said softly.
Kaldath smiled gently. ‘Not many people can claim that. As soon as I saw you I recognised that you were the same as me. My father was one of the Phaerie diplomatic party sent to Tyrineld to negotiate the borders of the Wizards’ realm and ours when he fell in love with my mother.’
He sighed. ‘Their love was doomed. The year I was born a plague struck Tyrineld. Before a cure could be found, many perished. My mother was a Healer and, while treating the victims, she was infected, and died. My father brought me to Eliorand, along with a mortal slave who’d been bribed to say she was my mother.’
‘That sounds not unlike my own background,’ Taine said. ‘But when Hellorin finally discovered my true identity he was livid, and I was forced to flee for my life.’
‘That sounds like Hellorin – he never changes,’ Kaldath said wryly. ‘As far as we knew, my secret remained undiscovered, but I always believed that Hellorin could sense some fundamental difference. I’m sure that’s why he sent me north, away from the city of Eliorand. I was Overseer of the mines and the Dwelven, and for many years I fulfilled my duties efficiently and well. But the more I came to know the Dwelven, the more I came to understand and care for them, and the more they came to trust me, I realised just how angry and unhappy they were, forcibly sundered from the Moldai, dragged unwillingly to a new and very different world, and enslaved. As time went on I felt increasing distaste for my role as Hellorin’s slavemaster, and my sympathy with his slaves deepened until finally I could live with myself no longer. Though I could not return them to their original world, I joined with them in planning to overthrow the Forest Lord, so that they could be free forever from his tyranny.’
Kaldath was silent for a moment, the lines in his aged face deepening with sorrow, his eyes dark and clouded with the memory of old pain. ‘We were not alone,’ he said at last. ‘Others joined us: human slaves and disaffected Hemifae, who were sick of all the privilege and ease going to the Purebloods, while they themselves were the ones who kept the Phaerie civilisation running. At first we were at a loss, unable to find a way to broach Hellorin’s citadel, but finally an opportunity arose.
‘The Forest Lord was desperately proud of his horses, caring far more about their welfare than that of his slaves. They were remarkable creatures, far superior to the ordinary beasts outside the Phaerie realms, though whence they came I do not know. Hellorin captured the original herd not long after we came here from the Elsewhere, but he was always tremendously secretive – almost suspiciously so – about their origins. As far as I know, he told only his son Arvain where he found them and how he subdued them.’
‘I can help you there,’ Aelwen said bitterly, unable to keep silent. Then she got hold of herself. ‘But I beg pardon for interrupting again, Kaldath. Please finish your tale before I begin mine.’
Kaldath tilted an eyebrow, looking at her curiously. ‘I am most interested in what you have to tell me, for I have often wondered about Hellorin’s special horses. But as to my own tale: as I said, an opportunity finally presented itself, and it was all because of those very animals. The Forest Lord felt that he was too far from his horses, for they were quartered on the outskirts of the city, and so he ordered that the Dwelven should be brought down to Eliorand to construct a tunnel that would lead right through the hill itself beneath the city, linking the palace with the stables.’
Aelwen forgot her good intentions not to interrupt again. ‘Why, I often wondered who constructed that tunnel,’ she gasped. ‘It’s a work of incredible skill. I always believed that it must have been formed by some exceptionally clever magic, and I couldn’t understand why its creator had not been honoured.’
‘Hellorin honour the Dwelven?’ Kaldath replied bitterly. ‘That’s the last thing he would have done, even if the situation had turned out differently, and his slaves had simply done their work and returned to the mines . . . But of course, they did not. Under cover of their legitimate work the Oredai dug a secret passage from the original excavation site, right up into the palace itself. It came out in the cellars. One night our forces flooded through the passage and the fight began.’
He paused, and rubbed a hand across his face. ‘I blame myself. I should have known better than to let them go up against the Forest Lord – to even encourage them in such a mad notion. At first, however, all went well and we dared to hope. Though the Dwelven are small, they are formidable fighters. You had an example of that tonight. Through their skills and through sheer strength of numbers we overwhelmed the kitchen staff, then the guards and the courtiers without too much trouble – but we had failed to reckon with Hellorin’s magic. If the Forest Lord had the might to defy the Moldai and bring his entire race through from the Elsewhere to this world, why would he find the Dwelven a threat? I knew that he had let part of his powers pass into the Fialan, and had calculated that, without it, he would be weakened, so that we might stand a chance – but oh, how wrong I was!’
A tear ran down his seamed old face and he wiped it away with a shaking hand.
‘I should have known. I should have seen, but I did not, and after all this time I still can hardly bear to remember the consequences. With one spell – a single spell – Hellorin slaughtered the entire Dwelven race. And the legends are true. He deposited the bodies in this river on the edge of his borders and transformed them into an island. The other surviving rebels, human and Hemifae, were all captured and executed – all but me. I had helped the Dwelven and I was their Overseer, so he laid the ultimate blame at my door and decided that my punishment should be linked to their fate. Before all the Phaerie, he cast a spell that bound me here for ever with the ghosts of the race I had led to their deaths, and twisted my own magic so that I could age but never die. Here I have remained ever since, living through the centuries in sorrow and remorse, surrounded by the unquiet spirits that are a testament to my failure to free the Dwelven or to keep them safe. And down through all those long and bitter years, no one has ever set foot here – until tonight. Until you came, apparently by accident, knowing of the Elsewhere and the Fialan. No wonder the ghosts are uneasy tonight. They know that you are the harbingers of change, and that one way or another, you will bring an ending.’
Kaldath looked from one to the other, his dark eyes searching their faces. ‘The ghosts are not the only ones who are uneasy, however. You suddenly appear out of nowhere, talking of the Elsewhere, and I look at you with a mixture of hope and fear. I can see that you are weary, but please tell me your tale now. As I said before, I am certain that your coming here is more than mere accident, or coincidence.’
Ignoring a ferocious dig in the ribs from Taine, and overriding his protests in mindspeech, Aelwen took a deep breath and began to relate her tale to Kaldath. Her trust in the old man had remained steadfast throughout his tale, and all her instincts were telling her that he was
, or would be, a friend. She began with a brief account of the ambush on the Phaerie, and saw his shock when she told of the fall of Hellorin, and how the Forest Lord had been taken out of time to preserve his life, and been trapped in the Elsewhere.
‘And you say that Hellorin has a daughter now?’ Kaldath gasped. ‘And she is ruling the Phaerie?’
‘Not any more,’ Aelwen told him, ‘but let me tell you the rest of it.’ She tried to block out Taine’s growing agitation as she recounted the tale, finally bringing events up to the present.
Kaldath, who had been hanging on to her every word, shook his head. ‘I can only hope that the fates are kinder to you in your rash undertaking than they were to me, for if Hellorin should escape the Elsewhere, you may rue the day you decided to bring the Fialan to this mundane realm. The thought of its power let loose in this world chills me, and I hardly know whether to hope your friends will succeed or fail. I only wish that I could leave this place and help you, for something tells me that you’ll need all the help you can get. But now you must rest. Tomorrow, with its burdens, will come soon enough.’
Much as they wanted to prolong the discussion with Kaldath, they could stay awake no longer. Curled in Taine’s arms, Aelwen fell into the profound slumber of the utterly exhausted, but as time went by, she began to dream. Mounted on her black stallion Taryn, she was flying with the Wild Hunt. Their weapons, hands and shining raiment were all stained with blood, and the great, silver fellhounds, the hounds of terror, streamed ahead of them through the sky. As she rode, she felt the fierce exhilaration of their bloodlust and the savage joy of the kill – yet somewhere in the dark depths of her mind, a small, lone voice, like the frantic wingbeats of a trapped bird, kept repeating:
‘This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong . . .’
The Hunt flew into a bank of cloud that was tinged with the smoky blood-hues of a sullen sunset, and burst out of the other side into a scene of blood-freezing horror. The Forest Lord, vast, mighty, towering thousands of feet tall, bestrode the land like a colossus, with one giant, booted foot planted in Eliorand and the other in the Wizard city of Tyrineld. Below him, the forest was crushed and mangled, its trees strewn like splintered matchwood across the earth. The moors and farmland were a desert, a wasteland piled high with mangled corpses and gleaming shards of bone. In one huge hand, he held Aelwen’s companions, Iriana and Corisand, Dael, Kelon and Taine, oh, Taine . . .
Hellorin turned his head and looked directly at her. Their eyes met and locked across the crimson skies. Then slowly, with a feral grin, he closed his hand, and the screams of her friends tore into her heart with bloody claws.
The fist clenched tight.
The screaming ceased.
Blood dripped from the Forest Lord’s hand, between his knotted fingers.
‘No, no, no!’ Aelwen woke up screaming, with Taine’s arms clasped tightly around her, his face pale and taut with worry. ‘Aelwen, wake up! Wake up, my love, it’s only a dream. Just a dream. You’re safe. I’ve got you.’ His voice cut through the panic, bathing her in a calming flow of words, until her breathing eased, her frantic heartbeat slowed and the shaking had ebbed from her taut muscles. Forgetting all pride and dignity Aelwen clung to him, taking comfort in his warmth and nearness, until she felt steady and calm again, and only the bitter dregs of the dream remained, like a shadow on her heart. For the first time, then, she noticed that Kaldath was also kneeling beside her, his face grooved deeply with disquiet and concern.
‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ Taine said softly. ‘Can you tell me?’
Aelwen looked from his worried face to that of Kaldath. ‘I think I should,’ she said.
It cost her a great amount of effort to recount her nightmare; to relive the horror and the fear. By the time she had finished, she was shaking again, and Taine held her close to him, stroking her hair. ‘By the Light,’ he said, his voice subdued, ‘now I understand why you were screaming.’
Aelwen took a deep breath, determined to pull herself together, and eased herself out of Taine’s comforting embrace. Rummaging around until she found her flask of water, she took a long swig, feeling it flood, cool and soothing, down her raw throat as she swallowed. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so feeble. I’m an idiot, getting all upset over nothing more than a bad dream.’
Kaldath looked graver than ever. ‘Nothing more than a bad dream, you say? I view this as the gravest of portents. What if it is a warning? What if it foreshadows the Forest Lord’s return?’
‘But – but according to Corisand, Hellorin’s trapped in the Elsewhere,’ Aelwen protested, not wanting to think about the alternatives.
‘Supposing he escapes?’ Taine said. ‘Supposing the Windeye and the Wizard have failed, and he has regained the Stone? We have no idea what’s happening in the Elsewhere, and unless the Wizard and the Windeye return, we’ll never know.’
‘Unless Hellorin suddenly puts in an appearance.’ Aelwen shuddered. ‘Oh, we were fools not to wait at the tower until out friends came back.’
‘We couldn’t. Athina had no time left – she was forced to return to her own realm.’
‘That would only have affected us,’ Aelwen pointed out. ‘Corisand and Iriana needed her help to send them where they were going, but we used Tiolani’s flying spell. We could have done that any time.’
‘So long as we had Tiolani’s cooperation. But you know how emotional and uncertain she was. We had to strike while the iron was hot, Aelwen – if she’d been forced to wait, she might have had time to reconsider. Then the entire scheme would have failed.’
‘And now, because I saved you and left her behind, she may well have changed her mind in any case. I wish we knew: about Tiolani, about Corisand and Iriana. How are we supposed to make a plan when we’re floundering around in ignorance like this?’
‘It was never like this in the legends we were told as children,’ Taine said wryly. ‘Real life is a lot more bloody complicated.’
Aelwen got to her feet. ‘Then let’s simplify it.’ She began ticking points off on her fingers. ‘One: we have to do something. We can’t just sit around here for ever. Two: my dream might just have been a nightmare, plain and simple, with no other significance at all. After the things Kaldath told us, I wouldn’t be surprised. Corisand and Iriana might have succeeded, and if that’s the case, they’ll be headed for Eliorand.’
‘And they must be warned that we’ve failed,’ Taine finished for her. ‘We must go straight to our meeting place in the cave. Maybe we can hide nearby and watch the approaches, just in case Tiolani decides to ambush us. And as for the matter of Hellorin’s return . . . Well, I have an idea about that.’
He turned to Kaldath, who had been watching their debate in silence. ‘You want to free the spirits of the Dwelven, and be revenged on the Forest Lord, don’t you?’
For an instant, the eyes of the Ancient One kindled. ‘It is my greatest wish, and were it accomplished, I could finally lay down the burden of these weary years, and rest. But it is impossible. Hellorin holds us here on the island with his curse.’
‘Ah, but if the Lord of the Phaerie is no longer in this world?’ Taine asked slyly. ‘Does his curse have power then? I suspect you can leave here, all of you, right now.’
Kaldath turned pale. ‘Leave? Now? After all these centuries, could it really be so easy?’
‘But surely, if that is the case, shouldn’t Hellorin’s spell be gone too?’ Aelwen asked. ‘Kaldath said that there was a curse and a spell, the curse to keep them on the island, and the spell to bind them in this ghostly form and stop them going to their rest.’
Taine shook his head. ‘They can try, but I don’t think it’ll work. Those great Royal spells of the Forest Lord are like no other, to preserve the safety and continuity of the Phaerie realm. I suspect that this spell, like the flying magic, will have passed to Hellorin’s heir while he is no longer in this world, but Tiolani never cursed the Dwelven. I may be wrong, but I suspect that Hellorin’
s power to maintain his curse passed from this world when he did.’
Kaldath straightened, suddenly looking old and fragile no longer, but fierce and strong. ‘We will make some trials, Taine and Aelwen, while you complete your rest. If what you say is true, we will come with you to Eliorand, and wreak our long-overdue revenge upon the Phaerie. Then we will force Tiolani, last scion of Hellorin’s house, to remove his accursed spell, and set us free at last.’
‘That’s fine,’ Taine said, ‘but before we do that we have to find our own missing companions, Iriana, Corisand and Dael. Once we’ve done that we’ll all go to Eliorand together and pay Tiolani a little visit. Agreed?’
Kaldath nodded. ‘Agreed.’
7
~
FROM ENDINGS TO BEGINNINGS
It felt like a new start. Though a thin veil of grey covered the sky, occasional glimpses of the sun could be seen beyond the clouds. The air was cool, with a sneaky breeze that tugged on hair, tweaked at clothing and slipped chilly fingers down the neck of Iriana’s sheepskin coat as she sat by the shore of the lake with Melik, using the cat’s vision to look back at the island and its tower. Since the previous evening, when Iriana and her friend Corisand had returned from the Elsewhere to the Tower in the Forest, it felt as though her world, her life had been remade.
Everything seemed different now. In a scant handful of days, Iriana had grown up.
Some of her friends had taken years to do it, approaching the process day to day, step by step, gradually finding themselves with different challenges and concerns, changing relationships and new, seemingly ever-increasing, responsibilities as the reins of their life were transferred from the grip of their parents and teachers into their own, often unsteady hands. Iriana had observed them: Chathak leant heavily upon his effervescent sense of humour to cope with the changes; Ionor used his devastating intelligence and Yinze, her beloved foster brother with the handsome face and flashing smile, had charmed his way effortlessly through any difficulties. Thara managed by being sturdy, practical and down-to-earth, helped along by her expansive belly laugh, sparkling eyes, and those lush curves that had men flocking from miles around. Melisanda, tall, fair and willowy, with her thoughtful grey eyes and her wry observations on life, had developed a fount of compassion, a boundless empathy with those in pain, and her mind and hands worked in tandem to create Healing magic of great power and exquisite skill.
