She made her way along a path, her boots crunching on the pebbles as she walked. She ducked through the trees and gorse, and emerged by the water’s edge. Thoughts of the White Beast and wraiths made her freeze, but there were only the waves rolling onto the shore. A heavy mist moving upon the ocean. To her right, she could just make out the shape of her boat. She let out a sigh of relief and tiptoed towards it, fearful that any noise would alert monsters.
The boat seemed somehow smaller. If a great merchant ship could not sail through the tides that swept towards the Shadowlands, how could she row against it in a tiny boat? She sank down onto the pebbles, hugged her knees to her chest, and stared hopelessly out to sea.
Either Doon was lower in the sky than she had first thought, or she had taken longer to get here, for the white moon was setting. Her heart beat faster, and she stood up, thinking it wise to be gone from the shore. The mist thickened around her, or perhaps it only seemed that way in the dimming light.
She remembered the lantern and reached into the boat to grab it. It was still heavy with oil. After some hesitation, she decided against lighting it, it would surely draw attention to her. She looked out to sea, and her pulse quickened. Was it her imagination or were shapes forming in the fog? She reached back into the boat and grabbed the axe as well.
The mist was definitely changing. It drew together into thicker clumps and formed tall figures twice the height of a man, but half as thin. Their clothes swirled about them like white ribbons, and they seemed to glow with their own light.
‘Wraiths,’ her breath sent the mist into whirling eddies. Now the light was gone the dead were free to roam.
She tiptoed back a few paces to stand just in front of the trees, mesmerised by the figures that flowed as much as they walked above the surface of the water. They moved aimlessly in all directions, some stopping as if to think, then moving in a different direction. The dead that have no place to go, the thought made her sad. Their heads were bent down but in some, she could just make out downcast eyes. A pang of pity struck within her and she understood why Edarna was here, why she tried to help these lost souls.
The mist drew closer, and their numbers grew. She swallowed, it was time to go. She took a step and grimaced at the noise of grinding pebbles. Holding her breath, she glanced back at the wraiths. They moved as before, seemingly not having heard her, if indeed wraiths could hear at all. But their numbers were definitely growing and they were nearing the shore.
Emboldened by their lack of reaction, she took another careful step and another, doing her best to tread as lightly as possible. But as fast as she walked the night grew darker and the wraiths swarmed less than thirty paces from the shore. Surely they could see her by now. Had she lit the lantern she still gripped, they probably would have.
With the deepening dark, it was getting harder to see where to place her feet in her clumsy galoshes. Her heart beat faster, the start of the path back to the house was only a few paces away, but so were the wraiths. She tried not to look at them, but when she did her body trembled.
Some were as beautiful as fairies, with pale sorrowful faces and youthful expressions as if their ghosts in death had taken on the person’s perfected form. Others were far more harrowing as if the ghost had taken its form from their decaying dead body, for their faces were sunken and their hands clawed in rigor mortis, bones clearly visible through the rotting flesh.
Her galoshes caught a root and she stumbled, her left hand shot out to catch herself on a branch. Unfortunately, it was the hand that held the lantern. Metal clanged noisily against wood, and her heart skipped a beat. All the wraiths stopped wandering and stood there unmoving above the ocean, their ribbon clothes swirling. Slowly they turned to stare at the place from where the noise had come.
Issa barely breathed, but her heart thundered so loudly, she was sure they would hear it. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her eyes flickered from the wraiths to the dark patch in the trees that marked the path. The wraiths did not move. Please, please look away, she silently pleaded as sweat rolled down her back. As if in response to her prayers they did look away, and began to wander as before.
Carefully she slipped her foot from under the root and took another step forwards. Five more steps, she fathomed. Four more steps. She came to the path and almost leapt for joy, but as she turned the corner mist seeped in front of her, filling the path with a carpet of dull light.
She glanced behind. The wraiths were virtually upon the shore. She turned back to the path, and jumped back with a yelp when a wraith twice her height formed there. She stumbled again as her heel caught a rock, and fell heavily on the ground. The wind was knocked from her lungs, and the lantern clanged against the pebbles.
All the dead eyes looked in her direction. The wraith before her scowled, its face contorting into a hideous mask of hatred. It howled like nothing she had heard before, it clawed right at her soul. The other wraiths howled in response. She cowered from the unholy din. The wraith lunged towards her. She scrambled up only to fall again in her struggle to get away, and landed in sea water.
The wraith was upon her before she could get further. She swiped at it with her axe, but it passed harmlessly through the wraith. Long fingers reached for her throat, and cold waves splashed over her as she struggled to find her footing. The fingers closed upon her throat, and deathly cold spread through her neck and torso. She gasped as her chest constricted, throat tightened, and warmth flooded from her body into the wraith. She could not breathe in, only out, and out and out, as the wraith breathed in, drawing upon her living breath.
She screamed a strange gasping wail. Other wraiths crowded around her, their fingers greedily reaching for her throat. She dragged the lantern out of the water, but her fingers were so cold she could barely spark it. It was soaked with water and wouldn’t spark, but still she tried.
‘Spark you bastard,’ she cried. At her words, a blue light flared from her hands shattering the glass, but igniting the lantern into a blaze of indigo.
The wraiths all cried out at once and fell back from her. She held the blue flaming lantern high like a weapon, and staggered to her feet, her heart shuddering after the drain of her life force. The wraiths crowded around her still but stayed just beyond the light, their faces a picture of terrible loss.
‘You will not have my life,’ she cried, her voice hoarse. ‘You have had your time.’
There came a noise, but she barely noticed it as she trembled before the wraiths. All at once they turned to look in one direction, away from her out to sea, their faces filled with fear. Then she heard what they must have heard - a long moaning wail that came from no creature of the dead, but of the living. A sharp pain struck inside her head, and she doubled over with a cry. It was the White Beast, she was sure of it. The wraiths all fled in a great wave of rolling mist.
She clawed her way back to the shore, grabbed the axe, and whirled to face the ocean. A white bulk crested the water, and its great mass followed, endlessly rolling above the surface as it dived. She stared at the size of it. A whining howl whistled on the wind, filling her with pity and a strange desire.
‘Come to me,’ a voice sighed.
Her left foot stepped forwards. It took all of her effort to drag her foot back and turn towards the path. The crying howl intensified, sending her to her knees. The noise itself seemed to wrap around her body and try to drag her back into the ocean. Her mind wobbled, and thoughts became jumbled and incoherent. She had to get to the path, but couldn’t remember how to get there. She had to find Edarna, but couldn’t remember who Edarna was.
‘Come to me,’ the luring voice breathed. ‘Come to me.’
She was dimly aware of her body responding to the seduction and turned involuntarily towards the ocean.
‘No,’ she screamed, but her voice was just a murmur on her lips as her feet touched the water.
A blast of wind struck her face, momentarily breaking the trance. The raven landed beside her. It was bald in patche
s, and one wing hung lower than the other. Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I thought you were dead,’ she said to her old companion.
A howl came once more, and she sobbed against the pain and the allure of the sound. But something else was happening. It felt like calm spreading around her as if a gale had been blowing, but was now ceasing. A blue light grew and the White Beast’s grip on her slipped. The light seemed to come from all around at first, casting the ocean, the trees, and the raven in its soothing light. She could feel the energy of her life force, stolen by the wraiths, flowing back into her. The ache in her muscles and bones from so many days of hardship was disappearing.
Keteth’s grip on her mind released fully and clear thoughts returned. She heard a howl in the distance then silence. The White Beast was gone. Peace flowed through her as the blue light grew. The raven stood calmly watching the horizon as the light flowed over him. She blinked in surprise. His wing no longer hung so low and soft down was forming where the bald patches had been. She turned to face the ocean.
The tip of a blue moon crested the horizon. Its pure unobstructed rays struck her in a wave of physical energy, and she stumbled onto her back stunned. The moon’s energy flooded through her mind, body and soul in a tide of cleansing waters until her whole being was filled with indigo light and bliss.
A succession of images filled her mind, whether coming from the moon or the moon’s power unlocking it in her memory she could not be sure. She saw the sacred mound as she had before, then it became the entrance to a beautiful crystal dome that shone with light. The image was replaced by the trilithon in the desert, but as she watched, the trilithon became the doorway to a pyramid that reached hundreds of feet into the sky. Giant trees now spread across where the desert had been, birds filled the sky, and clear rivers flowed.
There were people too, but they were not human. They were tall, graceful beings with long arm and legs, and there was nothing but peace and joy about them. They smiled at her, their faces beautiful, but otherworldly with large slanted eyes, no hair, and silver or gold shimmering skin. She could feel the power of magic exuding from them. More images came, but she struggled to see them clearly because they became too bright to look at and she found herself drifting in that blissful cleansing light.
There came a definite knock at the door, instantly waking Asaph and Coronos. The two men blinked at each other in confusion. Asaph stared out of the half-open window. It was deep in the night and everyone was surely sleeping. The knock came again.
‘I’ll get it,’ he mumbled and swung his legs out of bed. Coronos got up anyway.
Asaph opened the door and saw Gurapoha standing there. He didn’t seem distressed in any way.
‘Gurapoha, is everything all right?’ Coronos asked, pulling on his shirt and coming to stand behind Asaph.
‘Come, there is something you must see,’ he beckoned and turned without waiting.
Coronos and Asaph looked at each other, both still bleary-eyed and dishevelled from sleep. They shrugged and followed the old shaman along the walkways to the stairs that led up the tallest tree. Gurapoha would not have woken them in the dead of night about something unimportant, but he didn’t seem to be anxious or in a hurry.
They reached the top of the highest lookout panting for breath. Gurapoha stared out across the canopy of trees and the others followed his gaze. There was no moon, only thousands of stars blinking down upon them. Even at this height, there was no breeze tonight.
‘Gurapoha, it is always amazing up here, and I love to come at night when the sky is clear, but I’m tired, and what is special about tonight?’ Coronos asked, Asaph nodded.
‘Look,’ the shaman nodded eastward. ‘Look there, and be silent,’ he stared to the east at the dark ribbon of ocean.
Coronos and Asaph looked at each other quizzically but did as the shaman asked. Minutes passed and Asaph stifled a yawn, but then he felt it; butterflies in his stomach and his heart beating faster. He caught Coronos’ gaze and knew the older man was experiencing the same thing. Gurapoha stood unmoving, but every now and then closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
‘Look,’ he breathed, and just as he spoke brilliant blue rays broke across the ocean. Asaph and Coronos gawped in disbelief at the rising indigo orb the size of the sun.
‘Behold the dark moon rising,’ Gurapoha said.
‘The moon of Zanufey. The prophecies are true,’ Coronos gasped.
Asaph stared open-mouthed from Coronos to the shaman, to the blue moon, and back again.
‘A time of great change is now upon us,’ the shaman said, ‘though what has yet to be revealed.’
In silence, the three men watched the blue moon move low upon the horizon before it swiftly sunk back into the sea as if it had risen only briefly to show its coming. No one spoke as the last rays of the moon disappeared. Then they walked back home in reverent silence, feeling its strange power moving within them, wondering what had just happened.
Chapter 13
Witch Craft
ISSA blinked as the sky brightened. She must have drifted off to sleep, for the sun was rising and she awoke where she had fallen, the hard stones jabbing painfully into her back. The sun’s rays began to warm her cold body. The raven was still with her, huddled next to her hip. He ruffled his feathers dozily as she pushed herself up and stretched. She physically felt filled with life and vigour.
‘Right, let’s go back home to Edarna, and try to find a way to leave,’ she said to the raven as she picked up the axe and broken lantern. ‘This place is no longer safe, the Shadowlands have reached these shores,’ she hurried off down the path she’d had so much trouble trying to reach the night before.
When she opened the kitchen door, Edarna was wrapping her long grey hair into a bun.
‘Ah, there you are,’ Edarna said. ‘I was thinking you had tried to do something silly like get back into that boat of yours.’
Issa closed the door, the warmth of the fire engulfing her like a welcome blanket. She looked sheepishly down at the floor. ‘Well, I… I went to go and check my stuff. But to be honest I did think about it.’
‘There be no leaving these shores ‘cept on a bird’s wings, or in a Dread Dragon’s mouth,’ Edarna said.
‘I awoke in the middle of the night,’ Issa said. ‘I don’t know what time it was, but it was light, Doon was full. I went to the shore, and then Doon set and the wraiths came. Edarna, the wraiths have reached the shores, it’s not safe here, we must leave.’
Edarna paled and sat down. ‘I know they have reached these shores,’ she admitted with a nod, ‘but I cannot leave this place,’ she pursed her lips defiantly.
‘Edarna, it’s not safe. There were so many wraiths, hundreds of them, and they did not seem like Lost Ones, they seemed like Forsaken. I tried to get to the path leading here, but they blocked my way. I fell and then they,’ Issa’s hands went to her throat where the wraith’s hands had touched.
‘Impossible,’ Edarna squeaked. ‘You would not be here now if a Forsaken touched you.’
‘It tried to kill me, tried to take my life force for itself, but I flared the lantern…’ she hesitated and decided against mentioning magic. She had not willed the magic to come. ‘And they fell back, then Keteth came again. They fled from him, Edarna.’
She nodded, her face was grim. ‘There is only one thing those wraiths fear, Lost Ones and Forsaken alike, and that is the White Beast who enslaves them. Keteth keeps them imprisoned within the Shadowlands. How did you escape him alone?’
‘I don’t know…’ Issa stalled, searching for words. ‘I don’t know what happened, but it was very dark, and Keteth put a spell on me like before. Then there came this wave of energy - gentle but strong - it seemed to flow into me as a blue light grew everywhere, brighter and brighter, and as it did so Keteth’s spell was weakened.
‘It broke above the horizon, a huge blue moon like the one you spoke of. Its power was like nothing I had felt before. Keteth fled from it. It healed my body and m
ind and I felt as you did, that everything would be all right, but that great change was coming. I drifted in a strange beautiful place, like flying among the stars, then it was dawn and here I am.’
Edarna watched her, unmoving except for her eyes that widened in wonder then squinted in worry. ‘Yes, that too is what I saw, what I felt. So the White Beast fears the dark moon of prophecy… Could it be that this is a Child of the Raven? Blessed Goddess of the Night, I cannot leave my beloved home,’ she shook her head, and her fingers worried the hem of her apron.
‘Edarna, I am indebted to you for saving my life, but for all the horrors I have witnessed, beyond my worst nightmares, and the struggles I have endured, I cannot stay here. I must leave for the mainland or die trying, and if I remain here I shall surely die. I cannot make you come with me, nor do I want to push you beyond your wishes, but the Shadowlands are spreading and faster than you thought. The Forsaken do not care for you.’
Edarna nodded, but there was a reluctant look on her face. ‘I know that you cannot stay, but if you go I fear you go to your death anyway. Keteth is mad, but there is true power in insanity, and insanity by its nature is dangerously unpredictable.’
‘Tell me about him, what is he? Where did he come from?’ Issa sat down upon the cushioned chair opposite Edarna.
Edarna sighed. ‘Tis a sad tale. It’s no wonder that few know the truth of Keteth when so many are afraid to even speak of him. Keteth was born long, long ago, back in the time of the Ancients, back when Baelthrom was just a dark essence and a small pestilence upon the land.
‘Keteth was born a normal little boy, except that he had a strange gift, or curse, and did something no other had ever done before - he went beyond the realm of the living into the realm of the dead… and returned. It is forbidden you see, Zanufey’s realm is for the dead alone, and all wizards, witches, seers, priestesses, even black art necromancers, know this. But more than that, worse if you will, he could find the recently departed souls and bring them back, he could bring the dead back to life.
Night Goddess (The Goddess Prophecies Book 1) Page 12
