The Beast of Noor

by Janet Lee Carey

  Hanna’s heart raced. What sort of trick was this?

  “You are strangers here, as I said before, and we knew your human smell as you entered our realm. We heard your heavy footfall in our woods. And it did not take you long to break the law.”

  Hanna wanted to scream, “What law?” but her lips were bound tight. Beside her Gurty moaned inside her gossamer webs, and to her left the Falconer was struggling to speak.

  EPITT THE SPY

  Where the river’s blood is streaming And wild animals are dreaming.

  —THE OLD MEN OF MOUNT SHALEM

  THE DRUM SOUNDED AGAIN, AND HIGH ABOVE THE GLIMMER walls a score of sylths flew, bearing up a large, dark cloth. They lowered their burden to the stony ground before the captives, then tossed flowers on the dead unicorn that lay atop the cloth. Lilies and wild irises fell across the body, but beneath the heavily scented blooms the bloody gash in its throat could still be seen.

  Tears streamed down Hanna’s cheeks. Here was the unicorn from her dreamwalks. She’d seen her again and again, running from two large beasts, though she could never make out the look of them. And in that moment she remembered where she’d seen the stone tree before. In her dream the unicorn had run past the three-spired tree.

  “Here,” said Queen Shaleedyn. “Look long at the work you’ve done.” Her violet eyes seemed larger now and cold as the coming night. She raised her proud chin. “Surely in your world as in ours the unicorn is a magical beast and above the hunter’s rights to slay for meat!” Her voice picked up strength, as a gale does rising early in the first hours of a storm. “Yet you come to Attenlore and kill my beloved steed, Neurreal! She was free to wander as she willed but loyal to me always. Whenever I wanted to ride, I needed only speak her name, and she would come.” Shaleedyn’s lip trembled. Again, and more softly, the queen added. “She’d cross all Oth to come.”

  Both Hanna and Gurty were trying to protest through clamped jaws, and the Falconer struggled against the webbing that held him fast to his seat.

  Queen Shaleedyn came to a slow stand on her platform above the crowd. Her monarch took sudden flight. “Hessha elandra,” she whispered, stirring her finger in the air. As she stirred, the sound of rushing wind overcame the music. The queen’s hair and gown began to blow in the wind of her own making. “Elandra!” she said again. The sylth folk moaned and cowered, their banners whipping in Shaleedyn’s gale. The cold wind she was stirring rose high and higher, and the trees outside the glistening wall began to sway.

  “The law demands payment for this death,” said Shaleedyn over the keening. “If your human world is peopled by half-awakes who have forgotten the ancient laws, then know that our world is not. We the folk of Attenlore live and die by the law of the Old Magic.”

  By some power Hanna could not imagine, the Falconer finally struggled to a stand and spoke through his spell webs. “Queen Shaleedyn. This murder is evil to our eyes as well. We did not do this!” His long hair blew back in her storm; still he stood in her great wind, Hanna watched him try to raise his hand, but he could not break the webbing around his arm.

  “Queen Shaleedyn,” he cried. “We, too, honor the Old Magic!”

  The queen stopped stirring her finger, and the wind began to die down. The trees outside the glimmer walls settled to a murmur, and the banners ceased their fluttering. “Braughnoick, I see you have some power, but there is the smell of your world on this killing, and you three are the strangers here.”

  Hanna looked up at the Falconer, whose gray head was bowed. The sylths lining up on each side whispered one to another, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Then a loud commotion made the sylths at her right draw far apart.

  “Who comes to disturb my court?” asked the queen.

  A fox, flanked by more sylth guards, trotted up beside Hanna.

  “I have news,” said the fox.

  “Your news can wait,” said the queen. The sylth guards turned about, but the fox kept his footing.

  “Your majesty will want to hear this,” said the fox.

  Queen Shaleedyn flared up like a candle flame; a sudden ring of purple fire surrounded her, and the roses around her throne shone in the brilliant light. The fox threw himself to the ground and covered his eyes with his paws. Hanna looked aside as far as the webbing would allow. But the Falconer faced the fire straight on and did not avert his gaze.

  “I know what happened to Neurreal,” the fox said, his eyes still covered.

  “We know this, Epitt,” said the queen. The purple flames about her head cooled and died down.

  The fox lifted his head just enough to see the body laid out on the ground at the far end of the courtyard. “I saw the killing done,” he said.

  “Rise, Epitt,” said the queen. “And look about.”

  The fox did so.

  “You are too late with your news, fox. We have already caught the trespassers from the human world.”

  Epitt’s lip curled to a snarl. “Ah,” he said. “I sniffed these human folk out myself today. Your guards have caught these trespassers,” said Epitt. “But I saw the ones who broke the law.”

  Shaleedyn fingered the sapphires at her neck. “Tell us what you saw.”

  Epitt bowed his red head, then raised it again. “The Shriker,” he said.

  The name sped through the air like a thick shadow. Orb lights dimmed in its wake and some went out altogether. Hanna heard scrambling sounds as the sprites hastened to relight the orbs. Red lights and blue and yellow warmed one by one, and when enough light had returned, Epitt continued. “There were two of them, Queen Shaleedyn. They attacked Neurreal and tore her throat. Then they fought over who would eat the kill.”

  The courtyard fell silent with the news. No one moved. Only the orbs flickered, as if fighting to remain lit. At last the queen spoke with a voice like breaking ice. “There is only one beast by that name, Epitt. The one so named by the Darro three hundred years ago. There cannot be two.”

  “This I know, Your Highness,” said Epitt. “But that is what I saw.”

  Hanna’s terror grew. This was worse than being accused of killing the unicorn herself. At least before she’d known that it was a mistake and there was some hope of proving their innocence to the queen. But Epitt’s news hit her like pelting stones. Miles still wore the body of the Shriker. Worse, the fox had seen him and the Shriker kill the unicorn. It couldn’t be true, but there had been two beasts in chase in her dreamwalk, and two who fought over the unicorn. Her body shook as she saw them now clearly in her mind. Great, dark monsters. Bearlike, but wild dogs both.

  “We know something of this, Queen Shaleedyn,” said the Falconer. “If I may speak.”

  The queen nodded, but her brow narrowed with displeasure. The Falconer raised his arm, breaking through the silken webs. In the quavering light he held his left hand out to a burning orb until the Othic symbol on his palm shone blue. Hanna watched it appear as she had the night he’d first shown her the sign.

  “So, you are a meer,” said the queen. She tilted her head and studied him with her violet eyes. “Tell us the truth, then, Falconer.”

  He bowed his head to her, for she’d looked more closely at him and discerned his name.

  “I will tell you what truth I know.” The Falconer put his hand on Hanna’s shoulder. “This is Hanna. She was entranced in our world and called to be the Shriker’s prey.”

  Queen Shaleedyn leaned forward. “How is it she still lives?”

  “It is by some great magic she was spared, though I do not know its origin,” said the Falconer.

  “Tell me, what spell was used?” ordered the queen.

  “No spell,” said the Falconer, “but the shapeshifter’s art.”

  A sigh rippled through the crowd, up and down the great hall.

  “Be gone!” said the queen. And suddenly musicians, dancers, and other sylth folk disappeared. Only a small group remained before the queen under the burning orbs: Hanna and Gurty in their chairs, the Falconer sta
nding tall, and across from him, the sylth guard, Epitt the fox had vanished with the rest.

  Queen Shaleedyn looked down at Hanna. “This girl has a brother,” she said.

  “Aye, Queen.”

  “So it happens again,” said the queen. Her eyes seemed far away when she said this, as if she was looking somewhere in the past.

  So it happens again? thought Hanna. What did she mean by that?

  The queen seemed to awaken from her daze. She waved her hand at Hanna and Gurty, and the webbing broke apart. Hanna brushed the silken threads from her face and front.

  “There was a boy who gave us pleasure with his flute,” said Queen Shaleedyn. “Ah, such music,” She adjusted her shimmering gown, then frowned at the Falconer. “A gift was given.”

  “Ah,” said the Falconer. “A sylth gift.”

  “The wind chose it,” corrected the queen.

  Hanna looked up at her. Did she mean Wild Esper? Why would a wind spirit give Miles that kind of power?

  The Falconer bowed his head a moment, then raised it again. “The wind,” he said thoughtfully. “These are great powers indeed and as old as the oldest magic.”

  Queen Shaleedyn leaned forward. The glimmer wall behind broadened her reflection, so there seemed to be two of her, one human size and one giant size. “The law was broken, and we shall deal out just punishment here in Attenlore. The Shriker’s laid claim to my lands long enough. He’s crossed the walls and forced the boundaries farther out.” She made a sweeping motion with her arm as she said this. “The more he hunts, the larger Uthor grows. Now he and this shifter have killed my Neurreal. This murder was crime enough, but to poison the meadow where the Oak King Brodureth stands—to blight the place where we go to honor Deya’s Eve!” Her voice was growing louder with each word. “The Oak King of old, though he is stone now, is father to many in the wood. The Shriker’s kill fouled his meadow, and now King Brodureth stands in constant shadow. What punishment is cruel enough ever to pay for that?” She was at a full stand now on the dais, towering over them. “This is our trouble, Falconer! Not yours. Your kind have done enough.”

  “But it is our trouble,” cried Hanna, leaping from her seat. “Miles is my brother!”

  “Banished!” called the queen. She raised her hand and said. “The door closes now!”

  Suddenly the bright orbs, the glimmer walls, and the sylth guard disappeared like snuffed-out candles, Hanna felt herself wrenched up and tossed skyward.

  Blackness everywhere. She screamed and flailed. Nothing to see. Nothing to hang on to. Then she was falling down and down and down.

  At last she landed with a splash and sank deep under cold water. Frantic for air, she swam upward and broke the surface, choking. She was treading water in the middle of Garth Lake. “What?” she cried. “What’s happened?”

  Gurty splashed down beside her, let out a startled scream, and went under. Hanna dived for her, clenching her jaw against the cold. She swam as best she could with clothes and shoes still on.

  Catching Gurty’s arm, she pulled her to the surface. Sputtering and taking in breath after breath, they clung to each other. Then the Falconer swam up, took Gurty’s other arm, and helped Hanna pull the old woman back to shore.

  PREY

  The taste of victory was on their lips and blood was in their mouths.

  —THE BOOK OF EOWEY

  MILES FELT VICTORIOUS NOW AS HE CROUCHED IN THE windy forest gorging on the stag. The deer had charged him and tried to gore him with his antlers, but Miles had won out in the end. He paused and shook his head against the annoying flies. Then changed position over his prey.

  A boy would never have been able to slay the deer with his bare hands or spill its life’s blood with his small teeth. Pride surged through him as he tore the deer’s flesh and chewed the strong-tasting meat. His nostrils filled with the smell of fresh kill, and he reveled in its flavor. He was king of beasts here. He felt the muscles in his broad shoulders ripple with newfound power.

  The breeze picked up and blew against his side. He leaned into it as he ate. So windy here, and he hadn’t been able to escape it. It almost seemed as if the wind had chased him across the meadow and pushed him farther into the woods. Strange thought.

  He paused and lifted his nostrils to it. A sharp, clean smell of grass and evergreens. Lavender grew nearby, he could smell that, and the tang in the air told him that sage grew somewhere in these woods where sunlight penetrated the canopy.

  He tore another piece of meat and chewed, feeling his life and strength returning as he ate. He was a beast on the prowl, and now that his belly was full of meat, he would have the power to overcome his enemy.

  Kill the beast.

  Break the curse.

  He chewed in rhythm to the chant. How they would welcome him home when this victory was won! He’d be the hero of Enness Isle. A hero across all of Noor. They’d recount his battle in the history books. Miles the beast slayer!

  He tasted victory even as he ran his tongue along his muzzle, cleaning off the blood.

  THE QUEEN’S SECRET

  So it happens again.

  —THE SYLTH QUEEN

  HANNA RETURNED HOME DRENCHED AND FREEZING FROM Garth Lake.

  “You’re wet as a fish!” Mother scolded. But when she saw Hanna was shaking, she soon had her warm and wrapped and by the fire. It was no good at all telling Mother and Da she’d been to Attenlore and back, so she kept that to herself, saying only that she’d fallen in the lake and the Falconer had rescued her. True enough, for she’d started to sink as she tried to help Gurty, and it was the meer who’d brought them all to shore.

  Over the next week Mother and Da searched the woods with Brother Adolpho. And while Gurty was called away to tend the sick on Tyr Isle, Hanna went looking with the Falconer. They returned to Garth Lake many a time, searching for a way back to Attenlore, but the Old Men of Mount Shalem no longer spoke out magic. Standing tall and black in the midst of the lake, they seemed nothing more than burned trees now, and broken.

  Summer was coming to an end. The first of the autumn storms blew in from the sea. The Falconer coughed and shivered as they sheltered under a tall cedar, waiting for the storm to pass. He’d taken cold from the drenching in Garth Lake the week before, but today his cough seemed rougher. Hanna thought to say he should be abed, but the man was a leafer. He must know his own needs. There were but thirteen more days until the next full moon. If they couldn’t find Miles and help him to change back to himself in time … The thought came with an ache in the stomach and a clenching in the throat. She needed the Falconer here. Brushing her wet bangs back, she watched the water dripping from the end of his long nose.

  “We’ve looked and looked for the passage,” said Hanna. “Why can’t we find it?”

  The Falconer peered through the branches. “There are few places left that open to Oth. But new entryways appear from time to time, so a meer must be vigilant and look for the signs.” The old man turned to Hanna. “These signs are not seen with the eye alone. The seeker must look with the eye of the heart.”

  “How can you see with the heart?.”

  “It’s something no one can teach you, Hanna.”

  Hanna leaned against the rough trunk and gathered her courage. She had to ask. “What if the passage here in Shalem Wood is closed now? What if it will never open again?” She trembled, waiting for his answer.

  The Falconer cleared his throat. “Don’t be giving up so soon, Hanna. Mount Shalem is a hallowed place of old. It was once a part of the Dragon Lands.” He sniffed and wiped his nose. “The passage may be hard to find, but it is here. Of any place it must be here, where so many ancient guardians dwell.”

  Hanna imagined dragons on Mount Shalem before men ever came to settle here. It wasn’t hard to picture great blue taberrells soaring overhead alongside golden terrows, even on this stormy day. The sound of wings flapped overhead as Aetwan flew above the rain-drenched trees; the sight of him brought her back to the island here
and now. The Falconer had said there were ancient guardians here. Not dragons. It couldn’t be. “Who are they?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer her right off, but patted the giant cedar trunk as one would pat a noble horse after a long ride. “These trees are very old and wise,” he said. “And their roots go deep and deep. The oldest ones live close to a thousand years, and they hold world and world together.”

  “Like bridges?”

  “Aye, a bit like that.”

  Hanna liked that. She smelled the rich, wet air, full of woodland scents, and heard the knocking of a woodpecker somewhere above, working in the rain. “But there are woodlands all over Noor.”

  The Falconer sneezed and wiped his nose. “True enough,” he said. “But many people have moved into the forests. Here the woods are left alone. Fear of the Shriker has kept people out.”

  The thought was like a stone to window glass as it broke within her mind, but it was true and Hanna knew it. Only the shepherds, goatherds, and leafers like the Falconer and Gurty lived in Shalem Wood or near it. She wondered that such an evil thing as the Shriker could bring some goodness to the world, but there it was. Shalem Wood was a wild place, an entry to the Otherworld, and the Shriker’s legend had helped to make it so.

  The rain ceased. Pearl white sunlight fell through the branches, warming the woods all around them. They started up the path again.

  “I’ve been wanting to thank you,” said Hanna.

  “What for?”

  “You stood up to Queen Shaleedyn. You said Miles didn’t kill her unicorn.” She swallowed once. “I’m sure he’d never do that, even if he was still caught inside the beast form.” She was sure, almost completely sure, but she needed the Falconer to say so too.

  “Well, the boy needed defending.” He didn’t say more than that.

  They crossed into the meadow and walked along the ridge where the boulders leaned like giants’ heads, looking down the mountainside. “Granda told us there was always more than one victim in the dark-moon years, but only Polly died this time since the Shriker’s return, and that’s because of Miles.”