by A. E. Rayne
She could almost feel their spirits following her.
Morana smiled, closing her eyes for a moment, inhaling the intoxicating scent of death that pervaded the hidden passageway; this secret, terrible place of darkness and sacrifice and most of all... magic.
It was here that The Following had survived and grown, spreading their message underground until there were members of their covert sect in every kingdom.
And now, at last, they had the book.
Or, at least, Jaeger did.
For now. His usefulness to them was temporary, she knew. There would come a time when there was nothing more they required from him at all.
But until then...
She sighed, irritated by the thought of having to placate and manage him as though he was a giant, angry child.
Morana’s ears pricked up. She could hear Yorik talking in the distance, and she hurried forward, eager to tell him what she and Jaeger had planned.
Derwa had spent some time with her eyes closed as she leaned forward, her hands splayed above Edela’s middle. She had grunted, moaned, belched a lot and now seemed suddenly spent.
‘She has one foot here, maybe just a few toes,’ Derwa sighed as she collapsed onto the bed again. ‘But that is enough for now. The damage to her body is deep. It is working to kill her from the outside in. And I must meet it from the inside out. You two can leave now. Send in Entorp Bray, and I will see if he can work his own sort of magic to help her.’
Jael wrapped Eydis’ cloak around her shoulders, then grabbed her own as they headed for the door, leaving Derwa to catch her breath.
‘What’s happening in there?’ Branwyn asked eagerly, her sister peering over her shoulder as Jael opened the door. They had waited outside as the day turned to night and the air chilled even further, not wanting to go anywhere until they knew what Derwa had to say.
‘Is she any better?’ Gisila wondered, her face pale and anxious, her faded bruises visible around her puffy eyes.
‘No, not that I could see. But, the healer...’
‘Derwa?’ Entorp spoke up shyly. ‘I know her.’
‘Yes, she asked for you,’ Jael said. ‘She wants your help.’
Entorp blinked at Biddy, surprised by that. He appeared hesitant and nervous.
Biddy pushed him forward. ‘Go on, then. Get in there.’
Kormac glanced at all the cold, worried faces around him. ‘Why don’t we go to Aedan’s house? I can hear more than one rumbling belly, and we might need something to hold us over until we can get back inside to Berta’s stew.’
‘That sounds like a good idea,’ Jael agreed. ‘I’ll just go and check on Tig and the men first. Can you take Eydis, Fyn?’
Fyn looked pleased to finally have something to do as he came forward to take Eydis’ hand.
‘I’ll come to the stables with you if you like?’ Kormac suggested. ‘Then I can show you the way to Aedan’s.’
Jael shook her head. ‘No, you go. I’ll find my way there.’ And without waiting to hear any arguments, she wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and headed off into the darkness, hoping that she could remember her way to the stables.
Bram and his men were feasting in Kalfa’s hall, hungry after a long day at sea, although their appetites were tempered slightly by the nervous anticipation they felt stirring in their bellies.
Isaura and Ayla watched them from the high table, neither of them able to eat a thing. They barely moved as they aimlessly pushed rolls of herring around their plates, wondering what was going to happen.
Bram had stared at Isaura when he entered the hall earlier. A stare she was certain conveyed what she had hoped for, but still, where was Thorgils? She only saw Bram’s men. Alekkans. There were no Osslanders.
No one who looked familiar at all.
Ayla felt slightly calmer but still concerned, wondering how long it would take. She could hear rain falling now and thought of Bruno, whose hole would flood quickly.
How long would it take?
‘My lady,’ Bram said, coughing loudly as he stood. ‘We shall sleep on our ship tonight so that you may keep the peace of your hall. I thank you for your kind hospitality, though. As always, you Kalfans have the best herring I’ve ever tasted!’
Isaura nodded, her neck stiff, her back rigid as she watched him turn to leave. His men, pushing away their own plates and moving slowly, followed him.
And then the first man fell.
One of Ivaar’s men.
His head dropped straight onto his almost-empty plate; the knife he had been holding, clattering to the floor.
Ayla swallowed, gripping the table.
Bram froze, turning back to look at the man.
And then another.
And all around them, Ivaar’s garrison dropped to the ground or slumped over at their tables.
Bram turned to his nearest man. ‘Signal Thorgils!’ he urged. ‘It’s time!’ He drew his sword, his men fanning out around him, rushing to secure the doors, swords quickly in their hands.
Bram nodded at Isaura, who blinked rapidly and scrambled to her feet.
It was time.
Tig was unsettled.
Missing Leada, Jael decided. Missing the familiar smells of home. And Oss was now home for both of them. Although, when she thought of Oss, she thought of Eadmund, and didn’t want to. She didn’t want to imagine what he was doing in her absence.
With Evaine.
The stables were dry and smelled fresh enough for her to feel satisfied with her decision not to leave Tig behind in the vicinity of Evaine and her knife.
Jael ran a hand down his smooth, black nose and pulled a stale flatbread from her pouch. ‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ she whispered as he noisily gobbled it up. ‘Perhaps, I’ll even take you for a ride? Anything to get away from this place.’ Then she thought of Edela and wondered if she would feel comfortable leaving at all.
Tig seemed happy enough with the flatbread not to protest as she crept away. She hadn’t heard anyone but snorting, nickering horses and murmuring Osslanders who were busy making themselves comfortable for the night, but she felt on edge, wondering if someone had crept in to spy on her.
Jael hurried to the rear of the stables towards a door, almost hidden in the darkness, just past the last stall. Once there, she looked around again, then knocked three times. She waited for a heartbeat, then knocked three times more.
The door opened quickly, and there, waiting for her, stood Marcus.
14
Varna had been right, after all, Morana decided as she listened to the grating screeches of the black-robed Followers who crowded Yorik to argue against her plan.
She was unused to people. More comfortable in her own company.
Although Morana had welcomed being with Yorik again, she was not enjoying sharing him with the mad-eyed bunch of Followers who had taken an instant dislike to her; Morana being Varna Gallas’ daughter.
They had not liked Varna.
‘We need Jaeger!’ Yorik insisted with his hands raised. ‘If Morana doesn’t show him what the book can do soon... if he doesn’t see its true power, he will take matters into his own hands. And as we all know, those hands of his are disaster prone. So it’s up to Morana to guide him towards the place we need him to be. Ready for us. And if we do what she is suggesting, we will have him right where we want him, begging for more. Willing to do whatever we ask.’
Yorik stood in front of a crumbling statue of Raemus, wearing the same black robe as the Followers who surrounded him, sighing at the scowling faces of those who would not be convinced. Their desires and ambitions had been harmonious once, flowing together like a rushing stream towards the same goal. But when Morana had arrived, and the book’s presence was revealed, everything had fallen apart, and Yorik had struggled to forge them back into a cohesive force.
Here, in the antechamber of the catacombs, they could be as loud and indiscreet as they liked. And so, the arguing had continued for some time. But he could tell t
hat Morana had grown impatient.
They did not have access to the book. Or Jaeger.
She did.
‘We will work this spell!’ she growled loudly. ‘We all need to be together, united, to make it work as intended. But if not, then I will find a way to do it on my own!’ She glared at Yorik, urging him to take control.
‘Morana is right. We must act now! We need to show Jaeger that we are not just impotent dreamers. We must show him that we are a dark force to be reckoned with!’
They were silent now, eager to begin, even if they didn’t agree on the path Morana and Yorik had decided to take. After all this time, just being able to use the book was too tempting an idea to resist for long.
‘We will meet at the Crown of Stones, just before dawn,’ Yorik said with feeling. ‘It is time for us to send a message. The end of this world, as it has become, is near. Soon they will all know that the Darkness is coming!’
‘Why are we here?’ Jael asked impatiently, trying to adjust her eyes. There were no windows in the tiny room. It was almost too dark to see anything at all, but for the faint light seeping under the doors – the one Jael had come in through, and another to the rear.
‘Do you have the stone?’ Marcus asked quickly.
‘Yes,’ Jael nodded, revealing the stone he had given her when he’d pressed a note into her hand as they’d fought over the door handle in his chamber.
‘This room is safe,’ Marcus said. ‘Safer,’ he corrected himself. ‘Protected against the dreamers.’
Jael frowned. ‘Protected? Why?’
Marcus felt impatient. They didn’t have long, yet there was so much he was desperate to say; so much she needed to understand. ‘You have heard of The Following?’
‘Yes. Some.’
Marcus sighed, his shoulders tense with the weight he had been carrying for so long. ‘They have spread like a disease over the years, throughout Tuura and beyond. There have been purges. Good has risen against evil, and the temple has been purified, time after time, but never fully. The evil that lurked in the shadows simply threw a cloak over itself, becoming almost invisible in order to survive and rise again. And now... now the opposite is true. The temple is almost entirely corrupt. The Following has control of Tuura.’
Jael was puzzled. ‘You’re not in The Following then?’
‘No. Never. My last ally, Neva was killed recently. She was an elder, a friend of your mother’s. There’s no one left in the temple I can trust anymore. I’m not sure how long I have before they come for me too.’
‘But you sent my grandmother to Oss. Why should I believe anything you say? I know that Edela didn’t trust you. From what I hear, no one around here does.’
‘No, I expect not, but I had to become what was necessary to protect Tuura.’ Marcus felt around for a hay bale and took a seat. ‘Although, now that the Book of Darkness has revealed itself, I’m not sure what I can do. With that book, there is no reason for The Following to hide any longer. It is everything they want and need. They will come for me, for you, for Tuura. Destroying everything, until nothing exists. Just darkness.’
‘But the prophecy? Do you know what it says? What I’m supposed to do? How we can stop it?’
‘The actual prophecy was stolen from the temple centuries ago. Memories were recorded at the time of its theft, then they were stolen as well. But, yes, I know some of it.’
Jael felt her way to a hay bale near him. ‘Tell me.’
Thorgils saw the signal, and with his heart in his mouth, turned to Klaufi and his men, motioning for them to follow him.
He gripped his sword as he ran silently along the stones towards the fort. They had beached Ice Breaker around the headland, out of sight, and once night had fallen, they had started creeping slowly along the beach, hugging the tussocked banks.
Despite the cold, Thorgils’ palms were sweaty, slipping on the leather grip of his sword. He swallowed, trying to see Isaura in his mind. He knew that he needed a calm head to keep her safe.
Wind billowed his cloak away from him, blowing hair across his face. Annoyed, he brushed it away, swallowing repeatedly as he approached the fort. The salty sea had dried his throat, and he was desperate for a drink of ale.
‘Nephew!’ came the call and Thorgils froze, squinting in the fleeting glimpses of moonlight as Bram hurried towards him.
He was alone.
And smiling.
‘The prophecy warns of a return to the Darkness. The time of endless night and burning fire. Of life without death. The fall of the gods and the humans and the return of Raemus. The end of the world as we know it,’ Marcus said bleakly.
‘The prophecy says that it will happen?’ Jael wondered.
‘The prophecy warns that it will happen. It tells of the fire and the darkness and the monsters that will return if you fail to stop it.’
‘Monsters?’
Marcus shivered. ‘The gods and goddesses tried to please Raemus for a time. To tempt him out of his shadowy gloom. They thought to impress him by creating creatures that he could admire in a way that he could never admire the humans Dala had made. So, they created monsters. Aros, God of Fire, made the powerful dragon, Thrula, for his father. But Raemus used her to burn villages to the ground. Mirea, Goddess of the Sea, made the sea serpent, Sabba, but Raemus used him to sink ships and drown men. He turned all of their creations into weapons, forging an army of monsters to help him destroy the world.
‘And what happened to them?’
‘The time of monsters was ended by Dala. She saw to it that when the Great Uprising was overcome, the monsters were vanquished, along with Raemus and many of his Followers. They were killed, their souls imprisoned in the Dolma, which your people call The Nothing.’
‘And that is what the prophecy is about? That Raemus and his monsters will return?’
Marcus frowned. ‘Partly.’
‘Partly?’ Now Jael was confused.
‘That is all implied. But the actual prophecy is about someone else entirely.’
Jael was intrigued but conscious of how long they had been. As was Marcus, she could tell, as he rustled around, unable to sit still on his hay bale. ‘Who?’ she asked. ‘Who is the prophecy about?’
‘A woman. I don’t know who she was. It may have been recorded at the time, but it was lost when the prophecy was stolen.’
Jael stilled, uncomfortable with the idea that she was involved in such a thing. That a dreamer had seen her all those years ago and imagined what she would need to do. A dreamer who had believed that she was capable of doing it. ‘And what did it say?’
‘That you had to kill this woman. With your sword. With Eadmund’s help.’
Jael stilled. The memory of leaving Eadmund was still fresh. The loss of him nagged at her like a new scar. There were so many things tumbling around her head, but her heart was always full of Eadmund.
She missed him with every breath she took.
‘Well, that’s not looking so likely, is it?’ she said haltingly.
‘This is the book I gave to Edela. The one you came for.’ Marcus lifted a thick, leather-bound book from the hay bale next to him and handed it to Jael. ‘As I said before, it will not save Edela. Derwa is the best healer in Tuura. If Edela can be saved, she will find a way. What is in here, I hope, is the answer to breaking the hold The Following has over all of us, including Eadmund.’ He stood, swallowing, anxious to leave. ‘I’m no dreamer. The answers in here are not meant for me. Whatever you do, don’t take the book out of this room. They will know you have it if you do. Keep it here. There is a chest in the corner by those tools.’ He dug into his pouch and held up two iron keys. ‘This key opens the chest, and this one the doors. Make sure you keep them locked.’
‘You’re leaving?’
‘I have been too long already,’ he murmured, handing her the keys. ‘We can meet here tomorrow, at noon. But, for now, I cannot just disappear. And nor can you. They are always watching. Keep the stone with you at all times. I
t will hide you from the dreamers. Do not speak of this to anyone. It is not safe.’
Jael needed to get back to Edela, she knew, yet here was a man who had so much knowledge. She stood up, almost reluctantly. ‘But the prophecy... did it say that I defeated this woman? That I stopped the Darkness coming?’
Marcus shook his head. ‘The end of the prophecy was lost, almost from the beginning. Long before it was ever stolen. So, I do not know.’
Jael looked up at the shadow of Marcus’ face. He was an exceptionally tall man, awkwardly so, and he stooped before her, almost shaking, desperate to leave. ‘But?’
‘But if you do not, she will bring back Raemus. And Raemus will destroy us all.’
Aleksander yawned as he felt around for the least unpleasant place to lie. It took a while, but finally, he shuffled into a spot that was uncomfortable but hopefully, sleep-worthy. He lay his head back on the dirt and closed his eyes, pulling his cloak up to his chin as he listened to the fire’s last breaths and Axl’s light snoring. It was cold in the cave and had cooled down even further since nightfall, but they didn’t want a bright fire to draw wolves and all number of beasts and bugs to them while they slept. So, they would shiver through the night and hopefully, wake in the morning unharmed.
Aleksander’s mind immediately wandered to Jael. He knew how she would be feeling in Tuura. How shocking it was to face your worst nightmare again; to walk through the streets, see the buildings. All of them were markers of the darkest moment in their lives.
Nothing about Tuura had felt as though it was a good place to be. And Edela had not trusted that elderman, he knew.
Or, perhaps it was that the elderman had not trusted them?
Yet, who was to say who was right where the Widow was concerned?
He closed his eyes, not wanting to think of her because thoughts of the Widow always led to his mother and he still couldn’t face the truth of what she had done to hurt them all.
