The fair healer wished for an answer but knew, of course, that no answer would come to her. There were so many uncertainties, so many unanswered questions, although not all were about Faolan. She wondered about the stranger in the odd clothing, the five Ikalreev mages, and the demon running loose in Verdunmull.
Aili moved her hand from Faolan’s chest to his eyes. She parted the lids of his left eye and noticed his pupil failed to react to the sun’s bright light. An unwanted image flashed into her mind again, and she saw the wicked-looking eye in her first vision. The sclera was black as night, and the iris constantly changed color. She forcefully shut her eyes and twisted her head away. The healer pushed the unkind memory out of her mind, and after a brief reprieve, she unclenched her eyes and glanced back at Faolan’s face.
She whispered again. “Why did your eyes match his? They were so unpleasant.”
So many things plagued her curiosity. She shifted her gaze toward Leith to keep herself from dwelling on matters she could not presently understand.
“How is Ehreion faring?” she inquired.
Her brother peeked under the horse’s stomach from where he stood on the opposite side of the mare. “Honestly, I am more concerned about the horse. I am surprised her back has not broken yet. This dwarf is not exactly light.”
“Yes, but it is a dwarven-bred horse. They are meant to carry such riders. That is a hardy breed,” she responded.
He paused with a humorous expression. “Right, or perhaps horses just lack the ability to cry. She is probably weeping inside.” He petted the mare along her side. “There, there, girl. I know it hurts.”
Disapproval crossed his sister’s beautiful face. “Perhaps removing some of his armor would help.”
He gave her a conflicted glance. “Aye, but he smells . . . dreadfully.”
Aili raised an eyebrow at him as she sensed him falling into one of his ridiculous moments again.
Her brother fell into deeper contemplation as he scratched the top of his head. “Hmmm, save my nostrils or save the horse’s back? Such choices are difficult to make . . .”
She sighed and diverted her attention back to Faolan. She left Leith to discover his next course of action alone. The healer glanced back down at the guardian’s pleasant face. She rewet the damp cloth with what little water they had remaining, her mind drifting away into memory again. She thought about the events leading their small group so far away from Lesley, and her string of thoughts came to rest on a single matter: Faolan had saved her life.
The healer was unaware of the subtle smile on her lips as she admired his protective nature. She remembered the worried expression that had washed over his face as he leaped for her and grabbed her hand. The selfless sacrifice Faolan had offered at that moment in time meant more to her than he knew. There was no hesitation in his movements as he risked himself for her, and she was grateful for his actions.
A tear rolled down her cheek. She felt helpless and useless as Faolan lay before her in need. Aili began to succumb to her emotions, and her hand gently caressed his cheek.
“I am unable to help you this time. So please wake up, Faolan,” she whispered as a second tear rolled down her cheek. “I need my guardian . . .”
Silence chased her plea.
Aili applied the damp cloth to Faolan’s forehead once again. Then an odd sound came from behind her, a metallic clanking. She turned around and noticed her brother was struggling.
“Leith, what are you doing?” she questioned.
A loud grumble came from her brother.
“I am trying to remove Ehreion’s helmet,” he replied as he tugged harder and even attempted to twist the helmet off. He grumbled again and muttered, “Downright infuriating. This dwarf has an oddly shaped head.”
“Calm down, Leith. Perhaps his helmet was smashed a bit by the dragons,” she offered.
Her brother gave one last tug on Ehreion’s helmet, but it was no use. He stopped his efforts and steamed a bit as he crossed his arms and tapped his foot in annoyance.
Leith bent forward and knocked on the dwarf’s helmet. “Wake up! Ehreion, wake up! Your head is not letting me remove your helmet.”
On the opposite side of the horse, Faolan’s eyes slowly opened, and he glanced around in a slight daze. His rolling eyes caught sight of Aili sitting next to him, though he could see her attention was elsewhere. There was a ringing in his ears as they attempted to interpret sound again, and an awful smell snuck up his nose. His gaze shifted, and he noticed a large horse standing next to him. As his vision refocused and his mind cleared, he noticed there was some sort of struggle on the other side of the horse. Words began to make sense to his ears, and he listened to Leith’s voice.
The unhappy healer grumbled, “I yield. The dwarf’s stubborn head has won. I have been defeated by an unconscious dwarf. A new low.”
Faolan’s voice was weak as he whispered, “Aili . . .”
She turned around with a startled expression. “Faolan!”
Her brother stopped struggling as he heard her exclaim. He bent over and looked at Faolan through the horse’s legs.
Aili’s eyes widened in surprise, and a big smile crossed her face. “Faolan, you are all right!” She bent forward and hugged him, catching him off guard as he remained still while her hug tightened.
Leith smiled as he moved around the horse. “Welcome back. I hope you slept well.”
Aili released the guardian from her tight embrace, raising herself back up to question him. “Do you remember what happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“The odd man with the hat visited you last night. He did something to you, and you have been unconscious ever since. Do you remember what happened? Or what he wanted with you?”
He tried to remember as thoughts and images flashed through his mind. It took a moment for him to recollect the events because he was still trying to connect everything together himself. The images began to connect, and he slowly remembered what had occurred.
“I walked over to the cliff and stood there alone while you two slept. It had been quiet for some time, and my thoughts began to drift. I had let my guard down, and he appeared in an instant next to me. And he apologized.”
“Apologized?” Leith inquired. “Why would he apologize?”
“He mentioned a betrayal, but I did not completely understand his words. He communicated with limited explanations,” Faolan continued.
“What happened next?” Aili asked.
The guardian struggled to remember the next parts, though they came to him after a moment of focus. “He wrote a warning in the air about traveling straight to the First Seal and to forget about the Four Trials.”
Leith did not understand and questioned the guardian’s words. “How would the five Ikalreev mages defeat the demon without traveling to the Four Trials first?”
Faolan shook his head without an answer. “He wanted me to go alone.”
“What, alone? He’s mad!” Aili shouted. “If he wanted you to go with him, then why would he hurt you?”
“I refused to go without you. He wished for me to leave you all behind,” he answered, “He became angry after I told him no.”
“But what could you do by yourself?”
“I do not know as I only have swords and no magic. The man said he would stand by me as an ally, and he is indeed powerful, but why does he not go by himself? My abilities are limited, and I have no power to stop the creature, so why should I go with him? I would be no use against such an adversary.”
The twins were unable to provide him with further insight and were just as curious about the man’s actions. Aili thought about the encounter, and she remembered something unusual.
“How did he harm you without touching you?” she wondered as she remembered the way Faolan was writhing in pain.
“His voice. It was doing something to my mind. I could hear his voice in the chaos, but the disordered mimicry of the other voices hid his voice in that same chaos. It w
as as if it enfolded his voice yet allowed it to still be heard. Those chaotic voices clawed at my ears and took control of my body. I could feel myself going mad. The effects of his voice must be why he refused to speak to us. He wrote in the dirt or air before,” Faolan explained.
The twins listened to his recollection in awe as he tried to explain the complexity of the stranger’s voices. The guardian did not know what to do or what to think. “There are so many traits about that man that invoke fear and uncertainty. How could I trust him?”
A silence surrounded them as they contemplated their next course of action. The three of them looked at each other as thoughts rolled through their minds. Leith glanced over at Ehreion and knew they had to help the dwarf.
“So what about Ehreion? He will not wake until he reaches the Four Trials, right?” the healer asked.
“That is what Caedmon said about the girl. So I would assume it would hold true for Ehreion,” his sister replied.
Faolan mulled over their options as he did not wish to take the stranger’s warning lightly, yet he had to ensure Ehreion’s safety as well. As a new leader it was his first troubling decision without guidance, and he hesitated while piecing together their next steps.
Suddenly, a shout came from the north, and they all looked in its direction. The small group of three was stunned to see Caedmon walking toward them with the others following close behind. Kellen, Auvelia, and Gavina rode their respective horses as Treasach drove the wagon.
“Caedmon?” the young leader whispered. “How did they find us?”
Something was wrong.
“Is Caedmon hurt?” Aili noticed the wolf was limping.
Faolan rolled over and raised himself to his feet. He brushed the dirt off his clothes as he started walking in Caedmon’s direction. Leith grabbed the horse’s reins, and the twin healers followed their leader.
Faolan shouted at the old wolf. “How did you find us?”
“The stranger who wears the unusual hat informed us of your location,” Caedmon shouted in return. “He came to us last night as we reached Dragdun, the northern dwarven city.”
The young leader was stunned and whispered to himself. “Impossible. Is he truly capable of such speed?”
It did not take long for the two groups to close the distance between them, and they soon stood face to face, enabling them to have a normal conversation.
Faolan noticed a shallow scar running up Caedmon’s right leg. “Did he also give you that scar?”
The old wolf denied the claim with a shake of his head. “It seems we have a problem following us.”
“Another problem?” the young guardian wondered.
“A big one,” Caedmon affirmed.
Faolan sighed. “Care to tell me about this new problem?”
The wolf nodded, “I will tell you on our way to the trials.”
“Very well,” the leader replied and then mentioned, “We found another one.”
“Another what?” Caedmon inquired.
Leith exclaimed, “Another Ikalreev mage!”
The old wolf’s eyes shot wide open. “Where?”
Faolan pointed to the unconscious dwarf on top of the horse. “His name is Ehreion Hammerforge from Ardara.”
“What type of magic did he use?” Caedmon asked as he walked toward the dwarf.
“Fire,” the young guardian answered.
The ancient wolf sighed with relief and whispered, “The third . . . perhaps I will find all five before it is too late.”
Faolan glanced at the wagon. “Has the human girl woken up?”
Caedmon shook his head, worried about her health. He had an adequate amount of knowledge about the ancient spell, but he still did not truly know how the old magic affected its hosts. It had been a very long time since he spoke with the Ikalreev Archmages, and the prophecies provided scarce documentation about the intricacies of their spell. Part of him knew all he could do was hope and have faith the Archmages’ spell would not harm those to whom it binds.
Aili inquired, “Are you sure the Four Trials will wake them?”
“Yes, according to the prophecies,” the old wolf affirmed as he slipped Ehreion’s helmet off.
Leith’s jaw dropped; he was dumbfounded by the ease with which the steel helm was removed. He motioned to the helm in disbelief, then to Ehreion, and back to the helm. The healer shook his head and inspected his muscles in disappointment. He had tried so hard to remove the dwarf’s helm with no success, yet Caedmon had removed it as if the dwarf’s head was coated in butter.
Faolan’s gaze fell to the ground as his thoughts spun. “Caedmon, I was given a warning not to travel to the Four Trials. The stranger said I should go to the First Seal alone.”
“We cannot. These two must be taken to the trials,” the old guardian insisted as he missed the leader’s last words.
Faolan hesitated. “His concern was with me alone, no one else.”
Caedmon raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Only you?”
“Yes,” Faolan confirmed.
“Why would he ask you to travel alone to the First Seal?”
“He said only I am able to stop the Initiate,” Faolan replied.
Caedmon scratched his head at the idea. “What results would that bring?” He moved away from Ehreion. “You have no magic and no way to stop such a powerful beast alone.”
“I know,” the leader agreed. “It makes no sense to me either.”
Faolan shifted his weight uneasily as he remembered the darkness enshrouding the stranger’s head, though the guardian quickly caught himself being distracted and broke his thought. He tried getting back to the conversation at hand and not letting the small matters trouble him.
The ancient protector saw the young guardian’s anxious movement. “What bothers you, Faolan?”
The hesitant leader wished his mind had not wandered as he did not desire to dwell on matters, but he could not help his fears. He glanced at the blue wolf and portrayed his reluctance.
“Come now, what is on your mind?” Caedmon asked.
“What is he?” Faolan questioned with a partial shake of his head as he tried to understand the enigma.
The old protector watched the leader’s behavior before speaking. “Do you fear him?”
The young guardian glanced at Caedmon as a cold chill ran up his spine. “Yes, he is . . . unique.”
“What do you mean?” the wolf wondered.
Faolan shifted his weight apprehensively and explained. “There are things about him that continue to go unexplained. Unpredictability surrounds him, and mysticism plagues his presence. New forms of power are revealed every time we meet. What is he? Human, dark wizard, or something else? Nothing he does and nothing he has shown himself to be fits into either logic or reason.” Faolan breathed. “I do not know if we can trust him. He has not lifted his blade against me, yet I believe my life was in grave danger last night when we met.”
“In danger how?”
“His words were confusing, but he warned me about the seal and asked me to go alone with him to stop the Initiate. When I refused to go with him, his behavior changed drastically. He was trying to help me one moment, and the next I was feeling pain all throughout my body. His voice is cursed, somehow, and it adversely affects those who listen to it.” Faolan tried to clarify.
“Cursed in what way?”
“I felt unbearable pain when I listened to his many voices. They claw at your mind with an unidentifiable influence and cause your muscles to move on their own.” Faolan recollected the memory as he stared distantly at nothing.
“Voices? What do you mean, he had many voices?” The old wolf tried to understand.
“When he spoke, other voices followed his own. They mimicked his words and echoed one after the other in a discordant tempo. They created an audible chaos, though his voice could still be heard through their blending disharmony. It is hard to explain, but they echo over and over, until your mind can no longer distinguish between them,”
Faolan explained. “I lost control of my body when he spoke, and my mind felt so much pain. The echoing voices claw at your mind as they weave into your thoughts.”
Caedmon contemplated the time he had confronted the man back in the elven forest. The man had not spoken to him at their meeting, and he speculated about the man’s actions. Was that why he wrote in the dirt? Does he not speak because he does not wish to harm us?
Whatever the reason might be for the stranger’s actions, his unusual presence bode ill for them. His appearance might be associated with the Initiate or the seals or perhaps something darker. It was impossible for Caedmon to know the outsider’s purpose or reasons for being in the dwarven lands, but he grew more concerned with how Faolan described the individual’s odd traits. Just then, a vivid memory popped into his mind concerning their very brief conversation in the Mythios Woods: Do not fight the old man. Unforgiving.
“Unforgiving . . .” Caedmon whispered in realization.
Faolan wondered what the wolf was thinking, but he waited patiently as the old protector mulled over the recent developments.
The old guardian glanced at the young leader and insisted urgently, “We must not linger here any longer. The two following us should be avoided, and we must get away from them at once. Nothing good will come from them as their abilities are dissimilar to anything I have borne witness to before. They are desperately searching for someone, and I do not wish for us to remain as their focus.”
“Those two?” Faolan questioned the count.
Caedmon shook his head as he scanned his surroundings. “Not here. We must continue on and gain distance between them and us. I shall tell you the rest as we travel toward the trials.”
Faolan hesitated, shifting his gaze toward the cliff where his encounter with the stranger had taken place. Uncertainties tortured his thoughts, and he worried about the future. He looked back at Caedmon and reluctantly nodded in agreement to the wolf’s wishes.
The twin healers jumped up onto the wooden wagon bench, and the prince handed the reins over to Leith. Aili sat next to her brother on the bench and prepared to continue their journey north. Treasach mounted his horse and gave it a quick pat of reassurance. Gavina untethered his horse from hers, and they turned around to follow the wagon.
Verdunmull Page 25
