Glimmer in the Maelstrom: Shadow Through Time 3

by Louise Cusack

  She sighed happily and found his lips with her own, revelling in his hungry kisses and his urgency to possess her. His hands trembled as he pushed away her clothing, and his breaths grew ragged as the glow of her skin awoke him to fierce pleasure. Yet he did not cry out as he usually did, perhaps in deference to their visitors. Instead he groaned softly, as though in great pain, but Glimmer knew from the rapturous expression on his face that ecstatic pleasure held him in its thrall.

  Finally, when they were both spent and he lay above her, panting against her throat, he spoke to her again. ‘How is it that I can join with you when my king has just died? I am surely more evil than the Serpent God himself.’ Strangely, though he was berating himself, this was said while he continued to caress her breasts.

  ‘You are only expressing your love,’ Glimmer assured him. ‘Mihale would understand.’

  ‘How could he when I do not understand myself.’ She felt his hair against her neck as he shook his head. ‘I am mad when you are not with me. All I think of is the scent of your body, the taste of your skin. And now, to besmirch the memory of my king with such … lecherous behaviour.’ He pressed his lips against her neck and shuddered, his hands tense on her breasts, not caressing, yet not able to release them either.

  ‘How can love be lecherous?’ she coaxed. ‘My own mother and her Guardian lie together. She is pregnant with his child.’

  ‘They do not lie together now,’ he said. ‘They grieve, as I should.’ Glimmer was wondering what response she could make when he said, ‘This is wrong,’ but even as the words left his mouth she felt him strengthen inside her and her skin glowed in response, sending a wave of pleasure down Kert’s body. His involuntary groan of pleasure reverberated against her neck.

  ‘You see,’ she said, smiling. ‘Your body knows what it wants.’

  ‘My body is not my master,’ he said, raising himself away from her. ‘My mind is.’

  Glimmer quickly wrapped her legs around him, to hold him joined with her, and he didn’t, or couldn’t, resist that. ‘Forget your mind,’ she said. ‘Thoughts can be deceptive. Listen to your heart. What does it want?’

  Kert swallowed, and stared down into her eyes, looking for something. ‘It wants to protect you,’ he said at last. ‘It wants me to be with you.’

  Glimmer smiled again. ‘Then be with me,’ she said and pulled him back down.

  But later, while he slept, she listened to her own heart which reminded her, painfully, of her mother’s admonitions: ‘Was his interest only physical?’, ‘Did he avoid speaking of love?’ And worse, ‘Was he evasive when you spoke of love?’

  Glimmer longed to tell herself that her mother could not possibly know as much as the shadow through time who owned the memory of all things that abide in the minds of man. But experience did not equate to wisdom. Glimmer could know something but that did not mean she would choose to believe it. Quite the contrary, when it came to Kert, her unrequited love had blinded her from the start. And she had let herself be blinded. Like any mortal human navigating the treacherous waters of the heart, she had wallowed and trod water, struggled and gone under many times. Yet still Kert had not come to her rescue.

  Because he did not love her. And now their time had run out.

  The straight path that led to the unification of the Four Worlds had been barricaded. Teleqkraal had the talisman and she must regain that, expending whatever assets were required, Kert included. The longer she remained on Haddash, the further the situation would deteriorate. She must go to Vandal on Ennae before the last of the anchors were destroyed and her power diminished beyond her ability to restore it.

  Their idyll was over, and Glimmer had not found the love she had sought. Perhaps in death …

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Vandal threw his plate across the table, splattering food on a passing wine steward. Then he stood up and kicked back his chair. ‘Where is he!’ Lae’s hand on his arm was like a clinging tentacle and he shook it off.

  ‘He’s indisposed, my love,’ she said, pushing back her own chair. ‘Missing his friend Verdan, most like. We don’t need —’

  Her hand gripped his arm again and this time he shoved it off and turned away from her stifling presence. ‘No, it’s been days.’ Vandal could feel his control slipping and he knew that if he didn’t end this soon it would kill him. ‘This is deliberate.’

  Behind him Lae was silent.

  ‘He’s avoiding us,’ Vandal decided, wondering whether his father thought this tactic would relieve his jealousy. ‘But it’s not going to work. If he won’t come to us …’ he went back and grasped Lae’s arm, pulling her to her feet, ‘… we’ll go to him.’ He stormed out of the dining hall with Lae scampering behind, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she gasped.

  ‘To my father’s rooms.’

  ‘But must I come with you?’ she asked, still held by the wrist, trotting behind.

  ‘Yes,’ Vandal snapped, sick of her whining. ‘You’re my wife, aren’t you?’

  She ran a few steps to catch up with him and tried to touch his face. ‘I don’t understand why you want his company, why you don’t prefer privacy. We could have our meals in our rooms if we —’

  Vandal felt sickness well up within himself as he turned on her. ‘So I can fuck you more often than I already do? Is that all you want from me?’

  Silence settled along the corridor where Guardsmen and Lae’s trailing acolytes stood as still as statues. Vandal knew then that he couldn’t do this any more. Not even another hour. It was tearing him apart. Making love to a woman he hated. Remembering Petra every time he looked at Lae. And the darkness. It was worse in the darkness when he couldn’t see the tattoo, when she felt like Petra in his arms. The memories he’d used to fuel his anger weren’t helping him now. The Petra of his memories reminded him that love was more important than hate, and Vandal knew she wouldn’t recognise what he had become.

  ‘My hand,’ Lae said stiffly and tugged on his grip.

  Vandal’s temper was subsiding but he couldn’t help releasing her with a show of distaste. He was sick of this farce. His father was clearly as wounded as jealousy could make him. It was time to kill Lae. But first he must get them all together. ‘I’m going to find my father,’ he said, unable to keep bitterness from his voice. ‘You go back to our rooms.’

  Lae would not meet his eyes, but he could see rebellion swirling in hers. ‘I am the lady of this castle,’ she said slowly. ‘Not a servant to be ordered about.’

  Vandal wished he could slap her into submission, but in a corridor full of people that was unlikely to succeed. He struggled to rein in his impatience. ‘I am angry with my father, not with you,’ he said softly. ‘Let me vent my temper on him and I will return to you and … apologise.’

  Lae blushed at the intent behind the word and for a split second Vandal felt separated from the situation, as if this was Petra standing before him, only in another body. Confusion swelled up and he felt vulnerable, wrong. Then Lae’s eyes met his and the tattoo that framed them reminded him. This was the woman who was responsible for his love’s horrific death. This was the woman whose own death would right that wrong. He couldn’t stop now. Vengeance was the only thing keeping him alive. Without it grief would swallow him whole.

  The adrenalin surged back. He would kill her, today.

  ‘Wait for me?’ he asked.

  Her eyes held his a moment longer, then she said, ‘You are my husband and the father of my child.’

  Vandal knew he should smile at her, but his murderous intent was hard enough to hide. ‘I won’t be long,’ he said, then forced himself to kiss her, holding her head with a tense hand as he probed her mouth with his tongue. Lae liked him to be rough. It excited her. Today he could be no other way. ‘Wait for me in bed,’ he said against her mouth, then abruptly released her and strode down the hallway, the disgust of having to touch her already falling away from his mind. In minutes he would be c
onfronting his father. He must think of how to lure him back to their bedchamber for the final scene. First his wife, and then his father, dead at his feet. Somehow that would cancel out the deaths he had left in Magoria.

  A memory of Petra in his arms, lifeless and covered in dirt, came into his mind, and he hugged it there, using its destructive force to fuel his actions. There was no room in his heart for reason or compassion while the past drove him forward as inexorably as the Maelstrom itself.

  *

  Lae stopped at the door to her chambers and felt, rather than heard, her silent acolytes behind her. Vandal had humiliated her before her people, had made her sound like a wanton seeker after sensation, as though there was no love behind their joining, as though … she was as bad as her father. Even the low-cut gown of shimmering cloth that clung to her arms and breasts seemed to condemn her.

  Lae hated the idea that behind her back the acolytes might be looking at each other that way, unable to speak in her presence but thinking the same thing, waiting for her to step inside so they could whisper about what they had heard. She turned abruptly to face them, yet found them gazing obediently at the floor. Her hot wave of humiliation stumbled into confusion. Her attention drifted away, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a pale glow about their persons.

  An aura? Lae blinked, her confusion doubling. She had no memory of being able to see auras. Yet Vandal had told her she was The Dark. These gaps in her memory seemed unimportant when she was in her husband’s presence, but now, away from him for the first time since they’d met, the empty spaces in her mind were like locked dungeon doors, cold and frightening. She suddenly knew she must uncover the truth, but knew also that Vandal would try to stop her. He had in the past.

  She turned back to her acolytes. ‘You will stand at the door as though I was inside. If anyone calls for me, tell them I am not to be disturbed.’ She would find solitude in her secret hiding place and not be interrupted until this puzzle was solved.

  ‘Your husband, My Lady The Dark?’ an acolyte asked. ‘Is he to be admitted?’

  ‘Of course.’ Lae turned on her heel and strode down the corridor, trying not to imagine how Vandal might react to her disappearance. She had to do this or the gaps in her mind would continue to haunt her. Whenever she was called The Dark she felt a emptiness where the title should fit. How could she not remember her investiture? It must have been at the Volcastle but she had no memory of being there in recent times.

  Your adopted son Lenid.

  The words ran over and over in Lae’s mind. Why would Pagan say such a thing if it were not true? For an instant she hesitated, on the point of turning back to question Pagan, to drag the truth from him. Then she remembered Vandal was with his father.

  She did not want to see or think of her husband then, of how he had so recently treated her, nor of how he would react to her absence. Instead she set her mind to deception as she crisscrossed corridors, appearing to be heading for the Hightower when in fact her destination was the East Tower. She waited until no guardsman would see her crossing the parapet then quickly did so, descending the stairs to the lowest room where she lifted a concealed panel in the floor. Dust rose around her as she pushed the heavy timber back and crept down into the start of a secret tunnel system her Cliffdweller playmate Hush had taught her to traverse. The hatchway fell heavily back into place above her head and, still clinging to the rickety stairs, Lae sneezed, again and again.

  ‘You will be overheard,’ a voice said from below. A familiar voice.

  Lae gasped but that only set her to sneezing again. She almost fell down the ladder.

  ‘I see you have forgotten how to hide,’ he added.

  ‘Pagan!’

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Kai stood stiff, more in shock than obedience, as his new master flew repeatedly at the Volcastle anchor. The sound of the impact was agonising, like a vibration pitched so low it tore at the inner workings of the ear; violent sparks, like the shards of light the Maelstrom emitted, flew in all directions. Yet Teleqkraal appeared undamaged and was more intimidating for his silence than he would have been if he’d roared in fury. The Volcastle great hall was empty and Kai, with his hands clapped over his ears, stood at the furthest corner near the exit, as distant as he could place himself from the blinding sparks while obeying Teleqkraal’s order to observe.

  Kai’s vision had been fixed on his master for the whole hour he had been attempting to destroy the anchor, yet now he was distracted by a flicker of movement on his right. He remained still to avoid detection yet turned his eyes in time to see several Volcastle Guardsmen darting into position in the corridor outside. There were archers as well as swordsmen and Kai instinctively slunk back against the wall, away from the doorway towards the darker rear of the hall.

  Had they seen him? All their attention seemed to be on the Serpent God who continued methodically smashing his body against the filament. There was no thought in Kai’s mind to protect Teleqkraal. Only himself. A fleeting idea did pass through his mind that if he could get himself killed by the castle guard the serpent would be unable to torture him further.

  Yet Kai made no move to place himself before them. Instead he slunk into the shadows, found the edge of a heavy dust-laden arras at the rear wall and slid behind that. With his ceremonial dagger he cut a slit in the thick fabric and gazed out with one eye. A coward.

  The Volcastle Guardsmen were sneaking through the entry, ranging themselves along the wall, some darting forward to the heavy wooden seating to take up positions there. Teleqkraal’s pounding continued as though he was oblivious to their plans, as perhaps he was. Yet before they could act against him, the serpent’s bludgeoning bore fruit. A great splintering sound flew from the mirror and cut through Kai’s mind. His eyes squeezed shut against it, but not before he had seen the serpent still in the air and Guardsmen fell away from the entry, clutching their heads.

  Then the great hall was ominously silent. Kai opened his eyes to find Teleqkraal hovering next to the mirror, his glistening wings beating the air, fanning the flames from the volcano’s mouth below, creating a warm glow on his underbody. The mirror, which had hitherto appeared liquid silver, was now dull black, and Kai saw a profusion of cracks down its length.

  The serpent had destroyed it and Kai had no comprehension of what that would precipitate. He waited in the heavy silence punctuated only by the beating of wings, and saw Teleqkraal abruptly swivel and smash his tail through the damaged mirror, severing it in two. The upper portion fell, splintering and smashing into the volcano mouth like a huge stalactite crashing to the ground. On and on an endless stream of cracked black glass fell into the volcano mouth and Kai began to wonder whether The Catalyst’s words had been truth, that the mirror had reached through the void itself to secure a hold on one of the Four Worlds.

  ‘Now does my opponent weaken!’ Teleqkraal bellowed in triumph and Kai quaked in fear.

  Above them the Maelstrom roared back with an echoing suction as a great tornado raged overhead. The pieces of mirror stopped falling and there came straight after a column of pure white light sucked down into the Volcastle mouth. The violent noise of a moment ago was extinguished and eerie silence accompanied the light’s passage.

  ‘Atheyre!’ a Guardsman said, his voice echoing loudly. ‘The Airworld is gone.’

  Kai watched, more in fascination than in horror, as the contents of the Airworld were sucked through the passage the anchor had created. Cloud splattered red in places, and body parts flew down. Teleqkraal reached into the column and plucked out a sleek form by its tail, snapping it in two with his razor-sharp teeth. He crunched the poor creature’s head and then took another bite, flicking its tail back into the Column of Light before turning away, blood dripping from his long jaws.

  The Royal Guard, who had shrunk back against the wall in horror at this sight, now caught Teleqkraal’s attention. He turned on them and Kai felt sick terror as they raised their puny weapons.

  When th
e Fire God Kraal had first entered Ennae and begun eating the Southmen, Kai had felt exhilaration — his God had been destroying their enemy. But over time that thrill had faded into discomfort and then distaste. Watching Teleqkraal devour Kai’s own people had bludgeoned the last traces of enmity from Kai’s mind. Northmen, Southmen, they were all mortals together, and no match for the powers of a God.

  Powers Teleqkraal now demonstrated. One archer managed to get an arrow away but it merely bounced off the serpent’s glistening scales and fell to the stone floor at his clawed feet. The new God of Haddash looked down at it, then back up to the archer who fumbled with a second arrow. His compatriots were unable to move past fear.

  ‘Run,’ Kai whispered, wishing he could escape himself, but the hapless Guardsmen held their ground and Kai watched from behind the arras with a feeling of uncomfortable inevitability as the serpent stepped away from the Column of Light and lumbered towards them. The floor beneath Kai’s feet vibrated, an ominous sound overlaying the eerie silence of the Airworld’s demise.

  ‘Retreat!’ a Guardsman called, perhaps the captain, but it was too late. Teleqkraal was too close, and even as they turned to run he exhaled his breath of fire across them and the hiss of burning flesh cut off their cries of terror.

  Kai swallowed in a dry throat as the Serpent God turned to look at the dark corner of the room where he had hidden behind the arras. Would the Fire God call him? What if Kai continued to hide? What fate would befall him then?

  Before he could consciously decide, his arm jerked into action and the knife in his hand slit down the arras to liberate him, to return him to the service of his God. But in that moment a mighty boom reverberated up through the stone floor and Kai realised that the Column of Light had disappeared. His knife stilled. Had the contents of the Airworld reached the bottom of the volcano? What was the significance of the vibration?