A Blackbird In Darkness (Book 2)

by Freda Warrington

  ‘You’ve confirmed everything I suspected,’ he said at last. ‘The Guardians are deceivers. To lie to the H’tebhmellians is – beyond contempt. It is unforgivable.’

  ‘I agree with you,’ Eldor said.

  ‘And in spite of their heartlessness, they are yet “human” enough not to want anyone to think badly of them? Or to suspect that they are imperfect?’

  ‘Yes, I am afraid so. When I’ve finished describing the Grey Ones, you may think even less of them than you do now,’ said Eldor with irony. ‘Countless ages ago, long before man evolved upon the Earth, the Guardians went to the Serpent and tore out one of its three eyes in order to reduce its powers.’

  ‘Yes, I know. The Lady told us.’

  ‘Then imagine the rage with which it reacted. Its power over mankind had been reduced. It developed a hatred of mankind – and, indeed, of all life that was not of its own making – even before such life appeared. Its malice was vast, feeding on itself continually. Do you see what this means?’

  ‘I’m beginning to.’

  ‘The very hatred that it now directs against Forluin and the rest of the world, the hatred that created the Shana, was sparked off by this act of the Guardians.’

  ‘Ye gods! Is there any end to this?’ Estarinel cried. ‘Are you implying that if they had not interfered, the Worm would have lived peacefully and left us all alone?’

  ‘Perhaps. Or perhaps the world would have fallen into its power eons ago. No one, not even the Grey Ones, can say what would have been. But the next thing they did was more terrible, in its way. The Serpent had created for itself beings that we call the Shana. The Guardians caused their Dark Regions to be removed from Earth, which resulted in a cosmic battle that can’t even be visualized by humans. The struggle was only ended by shifting the Dark Regions to the far side of H’tebhmella, so that the Blue Plane itself acted as a shield and constraint against the darkness.’

  Estarinel was appalled almost beyond words. ‘You’re telling me that the Guardians were responsible–?’

  ‘The truth is muddy,’ said Eldor. ‘The Grey Ones claim it was a ghoulish trick of the Shana, since it pleased the Serpent to foul the Blue Plane. The face of H’tebhmella you have seen is a place of exquisite healing beauty. The other side was lovelier still, beautiful beyond imagination and with a purpose that only the H’tebhmellians could truly comprehend. They have never divulged exactly what has been lost. But when the Dark Regions came there, they were justifiably outraged. An abominable act had been performed against them, and they blamed the Guardians. The H’tebhmellians have continued to work with the Grey Ones, but not without resentment and mistrust.’

  ‘Because the Guardians had colluded with the Shana,’ breathed Estarinel. ‘Don’t tell me it was a compromise. It was a disgusting betrayal.’

  ‘Some of us thought so too. Notably Dritha and myself. You see, the Guardians are not gods – though when men call upon the name of the gods it is no doubt with some vague concept of the Grey Ones in mind – and our function is only to enforce the rules, not to make them. To keep a balance, and maintain the universe in benign neutrality. I must tell you that we know of no gods – only of cosmic energies that have to be kept in check. And this the Guardians do by manipulating, using, twisting the rules – anything to achieve their end.

  ‘Dritha and I were afraid for this Earth, however. We felt that there was something that mattered more than the balancing of distant, mindless powers. We decided to stay upon the Earth and watch over her. In doing so, remaining in flesh-and-bone bodies and being in continual contact with humans, we learned human values, conscience and love.’ He paused for a few seconds, apparently lost in thought. ‘So don’t condemn us out of hand, Estarinel, as being exactly like our comrades. We were not deceiving you. We do truly care about the world.’

  ‘I believe you, Master Eldor.’

  ‘But the other Guardians disapproved. They tried to stop us. They said we were being foolish, sentimental. They warned us that we were breaking our own rule that we may not interfere directly with mankind. They said that the idea of a House of refuge and learning was madness, because we risked giving too much away. But we disobeyed them and lived on Earth anyway. We only watched and advised – we cannot give material help or instruction – but the other Grey Ones still insisted that we were flouting the law. So they held us in contempt, treating us as outcasts and not consulting us about their schemes.’

  ‘Until it suited them.’

  ‘Indeed. It suited them to use us in the Quest of the Serpent. They would not tell us about the Silver Staff, yet they needed me to help them prepare it. They have delighted in both keeping us in the dark and using us; revenge for our defiance. Dritha, as I told you, refused to answer their summons, feeling that her duty lay at the House of Rede. I would have preferred to stay with her – but I came here because I needed to know what the Guardians were up to, and because I was concerned for you.’

  Estarinel listened to this with his head bowed. Presently he said, ‘So Medrian, Ashurek and myself are being used to undo the Guardians’ mistakes?’

  ‘In a way. This is what I could not tell you when you first came to the House of Rede.’

  ‘So you were using us, but being used in your turn... and likewise the H’tebhmellians. Next you’ll tell me that the Guardians engineered the attack on Forluin so that a Forluinishman “clear of purpose” could be used to bear the Silver Staff!’

  Eldor sighed at his outburst. ‘Ah, no, Estarinel, even the Grey Ones are not that twisted and cruel.’

  ‘But why could you not have told us all this at the beginning? I feel – I’m sorry, Eldor, but I feel that even you have deceived us!’

  ‘I swear that I have never lied to you. Only said less than I could have done. Yes, you have been used as tools in the hands of the Grey Ones, and will continue to be used so. But how would knowing this from the start have helped? How has it helped you now?’

  ‘Perhaps it hasn’t. It’s made me disillusioned, but at least I’m nearer the truth. I couldn’t have assimilated this knowledge at the start of the Quest. But I’ve been through so much since then; I’ve changed. Now I can also be cold-hearted and manipulative. I will co-operate with these manipulators whom I loathe for their inhumanity, simply because I will go to any length – any – to restore my country.’

  There was a new, grim depth of purpose in Estarinel’s voice. Eldor placed a hand on his shoulder and there was empathy between them, threaded with bitter sadness, yet somehow reassuring.

  ‘Will you be returning to the House of Rede now?’ Estarinel asked.

  ‘Alas, no. I am not allowed back. You see, now that I know about the Silver Staff, there’s a risk the Serpent would see that knowledge immediately.’

  ‘But surely it knows by now, anyway? When we were aboard the Star, Ashurek remarked that it must have known as soon as we re-entered Earth from the Blue Plane.’

  ‘It will know eventually, it is true. But human thoughts are a vague muddle to it, and we hope it won’t sense the actual presence of the Staff until it is too late. But that knowledge in the mind of a Guardian might be seen clearly. It cannot read our thoughts as such, but I could not keep from it the awareness of the one thing that has the power to destroy it. So the Guardians say, anyway,’ he sounded weary. ‘I am tired of arguing with them.’

  ‘I cannot imagine the House of Rede without you.’

  ‘Neither can I,’ said the sage. ‘Now, it is time for you to go back.’

  They stood up, but Estarinel faced Eldor squarely and asked, ‘Is there anything else you haven’t told me?’

  Eldor held his gaze and said nothing, but his expression clearly said, ‘Yes.’

  ‘And I must find it out for myself when the time comes, I suppose?’

  ‘Yes. It is so. But I will say this much: the Silver Staff is a wild force that has to be tempered by compassion. It is up to you – and Ashurek and Medrian – to discover and understand what that means. I am only a
Guardian. Even if I knew what it meant, I doubt that I could explain it to you. It’s something that cannot be explained, only discovered for yourself.’

  Estarinel felt something touch his elbow, and turned round to find Shaell standing behind him, ears pricked and eyes bright with health. He gasped with relief and hugged the stallion’s neck.

  ‘He is unharmed and well, as I said,’ Eldor smiled. ‘And did he not lead you surely along the tortuous path the Guardians laid?’

  ‘I’ve always suspected that horses have more sense than their riders,’ Estarinel replied, vaulting onto Shaell’s broad back. ‘Fare you well, Master Eldor.’

  ‘Fare you well. And don’t let your thoughts dwell on the Grey Ones. They want to save the Earth, whatever they have done. Think only of Forluin.’

  ‘That is all I think of,’ Estarinel replied quietly. Gathering up the reins and checking the thin red scabbard, he rode away.

  Shaell cantered down the long green hill with the copper beeches swaying and rustling on both sides. Estarinel did not look back at the red glass castle or at Eldor, for fear they might have vanished. He let the stallion go where he would, trusting him to find the way back to Earth by instinct.

  The ride was wild and strange, as if the Guardians were toying with their invented landscape and laughing gently at him. The green hill transformed into a golden beach washed by a turquoise sea, the sand foaming around Shaell’s hoofs as he galloped. Then they were crossing a crystalline landscape of amethyst with weird silver creatures frozen in its depths. Caves with walls like cobwebs of gold passed them by, only to mutate into a field of giant sunflowers. It was a dream landscape rolling past them, exquisite and confusing.

  Suddenly they were crossing an undulating plain under a blue-grey, star-filled night. It was again the wild, glorious night through which they had entered the domain, as breathtaking in its emptiness and beauty as before. And for a few minutes Estarinel felt he was no longer a speck, but part of the domain’s infinite night, understanding all and caring for nothing. He was one with the Silver Staff, part of a mystic, joyous dance that led along a shimmering path between the stars into eternity.

  Then Shaell carried him underwater and they left the domain behind forever. Deep green water was all around them, a scintillating mosaic of dark and light that rustled like a great forest. Gradually he became aware that it was foliage, not water. Shaell was forging his way through the dense, waxy-leaved bushes, and the path was gleaming under his hoofs. It was raining. Estarinel noticed the change in the atmosphere as it became softer and full of the scents of wood, earth and rain. The silver path faded and was gone. Without warning the bushes ended and Shaell stepped out into the grey and amber forest.

  Estarinel pulled him to a halt, feeling disorientated. At once he checked that the red scabbard containing the Silver Staff was at his side; at least that had not been an illusion. His memories of the domain were not dreamlike, but starkly real, even those happenings which he knew to have been phantasms. He would have preferred to forget the whole thing. He felt exhausted, and very hungry; he wondered how long he had been in the domain.

  He let Shaell walk on through the trees, but after a few minutes he began to feel disturbed. Eldor had assured him that Calorn was alive, and she’d said that she would know when he returned, and would come to meet him. Yet there was no sign of her.

  Out of nowhere an image came back to him: the monstrous, fanged white bear advancing on Medrian and Calorn. Apprehension stabbed him, and he urged his horse into a trot against the dense undergrowth.

  Chapter Ten. Across the River

  ‘No. Medrian...’ Calorn whispered, the last of her breath trickling from her. Her body was a mass of pain, ribs bruised, spine aching with the bear’s weight, its claws four deadly points of pain across her back. And worse was the terrible illusion that Medrian was towering above her in the night sky, black and demon-silver like some ancient deity laughing with infinite malice. The night seemed as soft and rank as the Dark Regions, while the glowing flecks from the fire became the red eyes of imps, dancing with glee at her death.

  Suddenly it was over. There was a flurry of fire in the air; sparks and ash swirling together, and she felt the bear lurch backwards and away from her. Relieved of its weight, she struggled to stand up, trembling violently and gasping.

  Medrian was standing in front of her, wielding the brand with which she had forced the bear off. She was small, human, ordinary. Calorn stared at her for a moment, shaking her head. An illusion. Only an illusion.

  Savage with relief, she exclaimed, ‘What kept you?’ She rubbed the pain in her ribs, and her fingers closed on the object that had been sticking into her; the phial that Ashurek had thrown to her.

  ‘Nothing.’ Medrian sounded surprised. ‘You were down for only two or three seconds.’ The bears had withdrawn a few feet and were pacing slowly round and round the dying fire, their lips drawn back over ivory teeth.

  ‘It seemed like hours.’ Calorn was backing towards the fire, her eyes fixed on the bears, one hand reaching for another brand, but there were only smouldering logs left, nothing she could hold. She did not notice Medrian staring at the phial gleaming in her other hand.

  ‘Calorn, let me see that.’

  ‘What? Oh.’ She handed Medrian the phial, just as one of the beasts turned towards them, its jaws gaping, its eyes mindless as death. ‘Look out!’ Calorn seized a red-hot lump of wood from the fire and hurled it at the creature. It hit the bear’s shoulder in a shower of sparks and the beast shied back, roaring as its pelt caught alight and smouldered.

  Medrian, looking at the tiny glass bottle, hardly noticed. At first she could not think what it was, why it seemed significant. Then memory came rushing back. Setrel! The village elder they’d helped had given it to them. She remembered his words, ‘A powder that can hold some sorcerous energies within it. If in peril you scatter it about you, it will repel evil creatures.’ She had not given it a further thought until this moment.

  ‘Ashurek gave it to me,’ Calorn began to explain.

  Medrian interrupted briskly, ‘We must scatter it in a circle.’

  ‘It’s no use – it had some power in the Dark Regions, but it’s dead now. The demon neutralised its power.’

  ‘But we have to try,’ Medrian snapped. ‘We’ve no other chance. I’ll scatter it. Here, take the brand and follow me round to keep those creatures off. And if it does fail,’ she added morosely, ‘we are done for.’

  With Calorn protecting her, Medrian trickled the gold powder sparingly onto the grass, working her way in a rough circle that included the fire and a place for them to sit. She did not really believe it could help them. But by the time she completed the ring and the last of the substance was gone, she could hear a different note in the bears’ voices. Their growls were louder, higher-pitched.

  ‘Now, let us retreat and see what happens.’ They withdrew to the centre of the circle, their backs to the fire. To their astonishment, although the bears continued to rear and lunge, not one placed a paw or muzzle over the line of powder. Then Calorn realised that although the substance had become neutral in the Dark Regions, once on Earth again it must have regained its potency. And now, like a ground mist, a faint, shimmering veil of gold hung above the ring. It was very much fainter than the dazzling curtain of light-motes Calorn remembered from the Dark Regions, but it was real enough.

  The bears ceased striking out and began to pace around the circle of aureate light. They wailed their frustration. It was a horrible noise, but Medrian and Calorn were too euphoric with relief to care. They shook hands, and Medrian actually grinned briefly. She must have been in severe pain from the blow on her shoulder, yet she looked brighter now than she had done for days.

  Estarinel had once told Calorn that Medrian was always more cheerful and communicative in a crisis. Some people, Calorn reflected, were like that.

  ‘They know,’ said Medrian. ‘Look at them, they’re furious. I’d forgotten all about that po
wder, I certainly never thought it would work.’

  ‘How long must we stay in the circle, though?’ asked Calorn, visualising being there for days, while Estarinel and Ashurek came unsuspecting through the forest only to be torn to pieces.

  ‘I don’t know. Watch them.’

  The bears continued their restless vigil outside the ensorcelled ring. After a couple of hours they seemed to forget why they were there and began to fight among themselves. Presently three lay dead, and the others had wandered out of sight.

  The clouds cleared and there was colour in the sunrise, a soft rose and golden light giving warmth to the forest, coaxing browns and greens into the trees. Calorn stood up and stretched painfully.

  ‘Oh, I’m bruised all over, and frozen stiff.’ She winced as she probed the back of her head where the bear had struck ‘Do you think it’s safe to go out of the circle yet?’

  Medrian did not answer. She was extremely pale, as morose and withdrawn as she’d been the previous day. Calorn asked, ‘Are you all right? How’s your shoulder?’

  ‘Not bad. I’ll survive,’ Medrian said, and there seemed to be black irony in her words. Memories fell on Calorn like a bear’s paw: the rabbit keeling over under the acid glare of Medrian’s eyes, the horrific illusion that she was standing untouched amid the bears, grinning pitilessly.

  Trying to shake off the night’s horrors, Calorn said briskly, ‘Well, bears or no, I’m going to rebuild the fire so we can warm up and have some breakfast. Still no sign of Ashurek. And Estarinel must still be in the domain. I wonder where Taery’s got to?’

  She stepped out of the circle.

  #

  The dense undergrowth would not allow Shaell to proceed faster than a walk. The impossibility of hurrying only increased Estarinel’s state of alarm. He pressed on against the hampering trees and bushes, filled with grim anger and despair. If Calorn was dead – if Eldor had lied – then the Silver Staff itself must be a lie, all their hopes proved false.