‘The saddest thing is that there was no one to help him. No one strong enough to teach him, to control him, and as such there was much fear towards him as he grew into a young man and a powerful wizard. Eventually, he was driven out of his home, and he fled lest he be called a necromancer and burned alive as one. But he was never a real Black Wizard.
‘No one knows where he went or how he escaped, and all thought him dead. But in the end it seems he hid away from the world for a long time, far longer than a normal man’s life, for when he returned it was clear that he could not die, he was beyond death, his dark gift had made him immortal.
‘Lost and forgotten in the shadows, Keteth grew strong. It seems all those years in hiding were lived in fear. Anger and hatred burned within him, eventually driving him mad. In isolation, he’d worked upon his gift, and his magic had become twisted, but strong and powerful and utterly corrupt,’ Edarna trailed off. Issa waited for more, but the witch stared blankly into the middle distance.
‘But what happened to him, his physical body? It’s no longer human. And what about the Immortal Lord? Where did he come from?’ The words tumbled out of Issa’s mouth. It was time for clear answers.
Edarna shook her head as if she dared not answer her questions. ‘Why, child, do you know none of these things? I wish I did not know of them, what little I do know.’
Issa looked down into her lap. ‘My mother, bless her, kept me from the world and all the things I should have known. She wanted to keep the darkness from my mind, and though she succeeded, she could not keep the darkness from our doorstep.’
Edarna’s face softened into a motherly smile. She took a deep breath. ‘All right, I’ll tell you the bits that I know, though I don’t know much or even want to know.
‘A very long time ago, the Immortal Lord,’ she made another warding sign against evil, ‘is said to have entered Maioria from the Dark Rift. He began to eat the living magic of the world to fuel his being. The more he grew the more insatiable his appetite became, until the land itself began to wither and die, crops failed, and animals fell sick and perished. But still Baelthrom grew strong, and in time was aided by the dark dwarves and necromancers who saw him as their long awaited Dark God of prophecy, and his ranks of immortals amassed. Don’t ask me anymore on that, for I know nothing more, only than it is wise not to dig too far into something if you don’t really want to know the details.
‘Anyway, I was taught that the Ancients, in their wisdom and their worry as to what to do with the growing threat of Baelthrom, decided to split the magic of the world, to divide its powers up so no one could have access to all. From the divided magic, six orbs were created and used to imprison Baelthrom deep into the bedrock of Maioria. The runic name of each orb was etched in stone upon the door of his prison and sealed by the Ancient’s magic. The orbs were divided amongst the different peoples of the world.
‘It’s sometime after that Keteth appears once more in the world, now a twisted being mad with greed, and possessing a terrible intelligence. Driven by lust for more power, just like he seeks more power to this day, he scoured the land for the orbs, so he would have the keys to all the magic in Maioria. In his madness, he thought himself stronger than the Immortal Lord. Now you could say like attracts like, and so evil attracted evil, and Keteth found the Immortal Lord’s prison. There he discovered the runic names of the orbs that, when spoken with magic, would lead one to its location. He did so and stole one, breaking the seal upon Baelthrom’s prison.
‘There was a curse placed upon all the orbs, that any who touched an orb other than its Keeper would die. But Keteth could not die, and when he stole the Orb of Water, instead of killing him, the curse twisted him into his current form. A bloated white monster of the sea, but still a powerful wizard.
‘Baelthrom’s prison was now weakened, enough for him to shatter it. He broke free and wreaked vengeance upon his captors until he had destroyed them all, destroyed all the Ancients. That was the end of the Age of the Ancients, and since then all beings of the Known World have known nothing but decline whilst Baelthrom rises, spreading his dominance and destruction upon all. When I see his Dread Dragons in the sky I know his might is great, and our time is coming to an end.’
Edarna looked paler than a wraith, and Issa noticed a tremble in her hands that made her worry. She reached over and clasped them in her own. They were freezing cold. Edarna looked up and gave a weak smile.
‘What can we do? What can any of us do? Keteth keeps the last of the Ancients, and all the poor souls he captures, as Lost Ones and Forsaken, enslaved within his prison and trapped forever in the Shadowlands. A spreading unholy realm of his own making. Though Keteth despises the Immortal Lord, he is his unwitting minion. Baelthrom could have destroyed the White Beast long ago but chose to control him instead. Whilst Baelthrom controls him, he has some access to the Night Goddess’s realm of the dead.’
The sun rose over the trees and cast slanting golden rays into the room. Dust eddies and tiny flies swirled about, illuminated by the light as the two women sat in thought.
‘But I must leave,’ Issa said, ‘there must be a way.’
‘I need some time to think.’ Edarna stood up abruptly, belying her age, and went into the other room, closing the door behind her. Issa went to the kitchen and took an apple from the fruit bowl. As she ate she considered her options.
It was the afternoon by the time Edarna returned. There was a determined look on her face, as she struggled under the weight of an overfilled basket covered with a patchwork blanket. She dumped it on the table and winced as she stretched her back. Issa set aside her plate of sweetbreads and looked expectantly at the basket.
‘Right,’ Edarna said, slapping her hands to her hips, ‘as I said before, I shall not leave this place, but you, my dear, have to.’
A meow came from under the table, and a hot furry thing curled around Issa’s ankle. She reached down to stroke Mr Dubbins. Edarna whipped back the cover of the basket, and both women peered inside.
Issa had no idea what any of the items were. There were jars of all shapes and sizes, some with seemingly nothing in, and others with something unpleasant pickled, which she did not look at for too long. There were several velvet pouches, some barely containing their stuffed contents whilst others appeared empty.
‘Now, it’s been a long time since I tried to create anything so complicated as this, and it will take all of these items and more.’ Edarna spread her hand over the contents, ‘but as far as I can see there is no other option.’
‘What is it you will create?’ Issa asked, clinging to intrigue to stop the dread growing in her belly.
‘Hah! You are going to love this,’ Edarna squealed, and looked just like a little girl. Issa could see why the older woman had chosen a witches’ path of potions and earthy spells. ‘It will be a potion of potions. Even the dead will not know.’
‘What do you mean, “even the dead will not know”?’ Issa frowned.
‘Well now, ages ago over the course of an entire year, I gathered together the bits and pieces needed to create a potion and a spell to make me seem as one of them; a wraith, a Lost One, one of the dreaded Forsaken. I wanted to walk amongst them, to see what they see, feel what they feel, and to glimpse the Shadowlands for real.
‘So, it worked, and I did all those things, and I returned, but I didn’t learn so much, and the Shadowlands aren’t so interesting. Just like walking through a ghost world of trees and deserted places, only everything is hazy and grey. It was endless, though, and I could see how one can become lost forever there. I couldn’t stay long, I couldn’t bear the all-consuming sorrow, but it was fun tricking the wraiths. Not even Keteth caught me, though it was sheer luck that I didn’t see him.’
‘What are you planning, Edarna?’ Issa sat back, feeling deeply concerned.
‘Well now, I have no idea if this will work, and it will take all day and night to create, but it’s my thinking that the only way you can get off this isla
nd is by that little boat of yours.’
Issa nodded, she’d concluded as much.
‘Well, there is no way you can escape the Shadowlands, the current being as it is. But, and this is the chance you have, the Arin Flow, the great river that snakes through the western half of Frayon, surges into the sea to the north, and alters the tide. Its cold water sinks, whilst the warm waters of the south are pushed up. Or something like that, but anyway, there the tide turns and flows towards the mainland, away from the Shadowlands. Now, it is a long shot, but if you can reach the point where the tide changes, then you have a chance to make it to the mainland,’ Edarna grinned, clearly pleased with her plan.
‘Right, so how will I make it through the Shadowlands to there?’
Edarna’s grin deepened, and she spread her arms towards the basket.
‘Oh no,’ Issa sighed, and slumped her head into her hands.
Issa watched the witch work with a certain amount of awe. The kitchen was transformed into something that looked like an alchemist’s home. Jars and vials covered every available surface, and each were connected by a thin tube, wire or string.
‘I found the cauldron,’ Edarna said, and dragged the black iron pot across the floor.
It wasn’t a large cauldron, big enough perhaps to fit her head in. Issa shivered at the thought. Some witches were black arts witches, but somehow she didn’t think Edarna was cut out to be one. The contents of the cauldron started to boil, and a strange sweaty-sweet smell drifted up on the steam.
‘Another four hours, more or less, and I think we’ll be there,’ Edarna said, sticking her tongue between her lips in concentration as she stirred. The steam was more like smoke and so thick that Issa could no longer see the contents within.
‘Can I help in any way,’ Issa tentatively offered.
Edarna was so engrossed in a fabric bound notebook, that Issa wondered if she had heard her. She put the book down and searched for something amongst the velvet pouches. The notebook was covered in spidery symbols that meant nothing to Issa’s untrained eye.
‘Er,’ Edarna started, ‘yes, I need thirty heads of daisies, not sure how many are out there, but see what you can get. Don’t stray beyond the clearing. I’ve created a stronger warding spell that is still settling. I don’t want no wraiths dirtying up the washing tonight.’
Issa left the witch to her craft and went outside, Mr Dubbins followed closely. The raven squawked from his sunny perch on a branch, then eyed the cat distastefully. Mr Dubbins only seemed to grin all the more, his eyes gleaming, pupils the thinnest of slits. She looked from one to the other, and seeing the raven was bigger decided the cat was at most risk and carried on with her business. She made a mental note to mention the bird to Edarna, perhaps the witch could offer some wisdom about it.
Daisies were scattered around the garden between the rows of vegetables and three apple trees. She took her time as she picked the delicate flowers, thinking upon the journey ahead. Edarna’s plan concerned her greatly, but no matter which way she looked at it there seemed to be no other option. It was leave or die here and become a wraith.
She sat down on a flat rock in the sun and watched as the last rays reached over the trees and across the garden. Her eyes settled upon the gnarly trunks of the apple trees and a lump formed in her throat. So much had changed, so much had been lost with no warning or time to prepare. I cannot cry, otherwise my resolve will crumble and I will not have the strength to leave. She sighed hard.
‘Will I ever find peace again?’ she asked Mr Dubbins who sat in front of her, his tail gracefully curled around his front paws. The raven was still busy preening himself, one eye constantly darting back to the cat. When the last rays of the sun left her seat, she got up and went inside.
‘Nearly done,’ Edarna said with a grin that creased her cheeks into wrinkles. She sprinkled the daisies into the cauldron. ‘An hour more with heat, then two to settle and we shall be done. Whilst you were out I worked my own spells into it, one needs solace and concentration to work spells. It looks like baked potatoes for dinner since this takes up the hob,’ Edarna said apologetically.
After dinner when the potion had cooled, it was ready to be bottled, or jarred in this case. It didn’t look quite how Issa had expected. Instead of a liquid, it was more like a paste; dark green like boiled spinach and fouler smelling. Edarna spooned it into a large jar, filled it to over two-thirds full, and put a teaspoon and tiny cup inside before closing the lid tightly.
‘I shall keep a small amount back for me, just in case,’ Edarna explained, grim-faced. She passed the jar to Issa. ‘Now then, this is enough for a month, and pray to the goddess that will be long enough to reach the mainland. Any longer taking this stuff and you will become a wraith for good. When you know you are in the Shadowlands, and believe me, you will know, take one level teaspoon once a day, mixed into a thimble-full of sea water until you leave the Shadowlands. This means you will always need to be beside the sea.
‘You will appear as a wraith to the Lost Ones and Forsaken, they will not be able to detect your life force. You shall loose all colour in your skin, and expect to lose weight. This stuff is not without its consequences, and I cannot be sure of them all, each person will react differently.’
Issa looked reluctantly at the jar. Edarna read her mind.
‘As far as Keteth is concerned I don’t know. He did not detect me all those years ago, but he is stronger now. I advise extreme caution and hide whenever you suspect he might be near. This potion will help lessen the effects of his luring magic, but you shall not be immune. Know your own mind and your enemy’s.
‘Now, there are a few more things you must know about the Shadowlands. There is no sun, no moons and no stars. The night is as the day, all cloaked in mist and fog, and all is painted varying shades of grey. You won’t know when a day has passed, so you must look to your body for signs of the potion wearing off. A normal pink patch of skin appearing on your arm, or sudden sickness in the stomach, or bleeding from the nose. When that happens, take the potion immediately, as a day or more will certainly have passed.
‘Remember, whilst you are under the effects of the potion you will be a wraith and they will ignore you. I recommend you sleep in hiding in case the potion wears off whilst you sleep. And always, always, keep it at your side. Here,’ Edarna rummaged in one of the lower cupboards, finally pulling out a threadbare shoulder sack just big enough to hold the potion. Issa took the bag and slipped it over her head. She glanced at the older woman.
‘Are you sure you won’t come too?’ Edarna shook her head, her mouth set firm. Issa looked out of the window into the darkness. ‘I guess there’s no point waiting around, so I shall go as soon as the dawn comes.’
‘I thought as much,’ Edarna nodded, ‘though you may stay as long as you wish. Take the rest of the baked potatoes and sweetbreads, and anything else you may need.’
‘Thank you, Edarna,’ was all she could think to say.
Both women arose at dawn, each with dark circles under their eyes. Issa clasped the threadbare sack to her side. Silently they left Edarna’s house, Mr Dubbins leading the way, and made their way under a cloud-filled sky to Issa’s boat.
‘Take this lantern, I have many and yours is broken. Here’s the food.’ Edarna passed Issa another small sack. A raucous squawk above caught their attention.
‘Ah, a raven. You see I knew the Night Goddess favoured you, you have luck and good omens on your side,’ Edarna beamed.
Issa smiled. ‘The raven came to me before too. Do you know why or what it might mean?’ Issa trailed off under Edarna’s stare, for her eyes flashed blue with insight.
The witch shook her head and blinked. ‘There is something, but it is not for me to see… and the future is still dark. Never mind. Go in blessing, and know that the Night Goddess is with you.’ Edarna’s eyes held nothing but sincerity and something more, perhaps a hint of wonder.
Issa couldn’t think of anything to say, and instead reache
d down to stroke Mr Dubbins. ‘Goodbye, little one,’ she said and he purred.
Together the women pushed the boat into the waves. Issa stood in the water, once again in her waders and galoshes. Edarna in long boots held the boat steady whilst Issa dragged herself in and took hold of the oars. For a moment their eyes met, and they stared at one another silently, the unspoken feeling shared; two people adrift and alone in the world.
‘I see a dark path before you, but a strong soul who walks it,’ Edarna said. ‘If you make it to the mainland, and you will, do not relax your guard. Discernment will save your life, know yourself, and who your true friends are. Most importantly, beware of the deceivers and their false gifts and broken promises. They would make you an enemy of yourself to break you so that you will serve them. Master yourself and know that true friends can be found in the most unlikely places.’
Issa nodded, the witch’s wise words made her feel humble. ‘Edarna, if I survive this, I shall come back and find you. The future may be dark, but I guess it’s up to us to make our own future now.’
Edarna smiled, gave a big push, and let go of the boat. Issa began rowing, her eyes never leaving the old witch and her blue cat until the tide caught the boat, and carried her out of sight.
Chapter 14
The Shadowlands
THE tide carried the boat along swiftly and the raven circled overhead, keeping her company. Issa did little rowing, there seemed no point, and her tiny oars had no affect on this tide. She had no idea how long she had been travelling, but it seemed like hours later when she first began to think they had reached the Shadowlands.
As she had suspected, there came no definite border to the Shadowlands, no sudden bank of fog or looming dark land, only a slow closing in of the clouds above, and the distinction between them blurring until it seemed only one great cloud covered the sky. The sea grew calmer, and the air was cold and damp, but lacking the fresh smell of the ocean. The water was dark grey and all was silent and pensive. A billowing fog moved some distance away, and in a patchy clearing she thought she spied land.
Night Goddess (The Goddess Prophecies Book 1) Page 13
