by M S C Barnes
Seb had no idea how Aelfric had done that. As far as he knew, the only way to locate doorways was using the Guides and their tins. But now he had a sudden flash of a memory — of a moment when he had stood within the Hurlers and had been connected to a source of ancient knowledge and powers that seemed, to him, to be buried within his soul. At that moment he had seen a map, a display of passageways, doors and places, visible only in his mind’s eye. It was how he had been able to open the Soul Drop. Is that what Aelfric had used?
He didn’t have time to find out. Henri marched the few yards along the Bastion Ring, impatient to be gone from this place. Seb had to admit he had no wish to stay there any longer than necessary.
Standing in front of the inner of the two walls of water that formed the ring passageway, Aelfric raised his hand. Capturing light from the larvae nests above them, he shone it onto the wall. As soon as the door appeared, Henri directed Reynard through it and, with Dæved followed. The Caretaker, who had still not said a word or even approached Seb or Aelfric, hung behind and Aelfric waved Seb through the door but didn’t follow. Seb, unsure what the problem was, glanced back over his shoulder and felt instantly embarrassed at the private moment he inadvertently intruded upon. Aelfric wrapped his arms around The Caretaker in a gentle embrace and The Caretaker, huddling into his chest, mumbled to him, “I was powerless — I couldn’t get to you —”
Seb saw and heard nothing further because The Caretaker, suddenly realising they were being watched, broke free of Aelfric’s arms just as Dierne zoomed across and blocked the doorway.
“I, I’m sorry,” Seb stuttered. “I wasn’t spying … I had no idea,” he whispered.
“You still don’t,” Dierne said carefully, ushering Seb through the door and towards Henri and Reynard who were standing in the mausoleum, gazing at the mound of mud by the wall. Henri, through Dæved, was holding a conversation, in silence. Seb didn’t know who with and it ended as Aelfric joined them, The Caretaker, hood still up, a pace behind him.
Unable to look at the mud pile, Seb kept his back to it but found that, even just being this close to it brought dreadful memories flooding back. He recalled the horrifying moment when he had realised that the golem’s intent was to kill Nat and then the terrible sight of Alice’s body being engulfed in green flames. Suddenly, his breath caught in his throat as he noticed …
“Where’s Alice? Where is he?” he shouted, spinning round to look at Aelfric.
“He is in the caves being cared for by Nat,” Aelfric said, putting a calming hand on his arm. Seb, although relieved, looked confused and Aelfric explained, “When Henri sent Dæved to tell me that you had gone to find Zach, and that had required you to enter Heath’s lock passageway, I couldn’t accept the risk of you encountering Nicole alone. So, with Trudy, I took Alice to the caves and, having explained to Henri how to navigate the passageway, so that he too could follow when he had healed the others, I went in search of you. Alice is in good hands.” He smiled, then looked across the mausoleum. The smile disappeared. “And now we need to lift the enclave, Seb,” he said.
Seb turned, hoping he would remember the spot where Zach had driven the Sælen Sword into the parchment and then he jumped. On the other side of the mausoleum, bunched together within the walls, was a small gathering of people — all standing silently, watching him. Panicking, he wondered if they were the police — called because of reports of trespassers inside the mausoleum, or maybe because of reports of damage to the church — he thought back to the destruction caused by the shadowtrail. But so many of them? There were at least ten; and none in uniform …
“You called for them then,” Aelfric said quietly, turning to Henri who nodded.
“Yes,” he answered. “Her legacy was not clear and I am struggling to be impartial; I cannot distance myself from what she did to Lotty. I cannot decide her fate,” he mumbled. “Through Dæved, I have just explained what has happened to them.”
“Who are they?” Seb whispered.
“They, Seb, are the Custodian Witan. Henri, understandably,” Aelfric smiled at Henri, “has requested they intercede and make the decision over the fate of Nicole’s soul.”
Seb gawped at the figures grouped so tightly within the walls and railings of the mausoleum. Surrounded by thousands of flamers they just looked like an ordinary crowd of people, though some wore attire more fitting to other countries and cultures. He counted them, six men and six women, and their ages ranged from their forties up to one who actually appeared to be in his nineties. None were as young as Aelfric and certainly none were of Seb’s age, and they all seemed to be staring at him. He realised why. The thread around his wrist was sparkling brilliantly and as he opened his hand, the small sword on his palm was too.
“She is fighting her constraints, Seb,” Aelfric explained and suddenly a female voice, with a strong American accent, called out from the middle of the crowd.
“And that, Aelfric, is probably enough information for her fate to be decided.” A svelte woman stepped forward but stopped just at the boundary of the enclave. Wearing a bright blue ski jacket, jeans and hiking shoes, she adjusted the cream bobble hat on her head before toying with the tassels on her brightly coloured scarf, all the while regarding Aelfric with annoyance. “Henri, you disturbed my sleep,” she said, keeping her eyes on Aelfric, “I hope one of you brought coffee.” Henri didn’t answer, he stared at the sword on Seb’s open palm, looking like there was a lot he did want to say but couldn’t, and Aelfric said nothing either. “And so, once more, it appears our time is being wasted,” the blue jacketed woman said, sounding exasperated.
“What?” Henri said, looking up.
“You summons us to this cold place,” the woman faked a shiver, “at the unfolding of the solstice, Henri — when we are all more than busy enough — to help decide the fate of your wayward successor, when in reality, just by looking at that,” she pointed at the sword, “you already know what needs to be done! It seems Aelfric is determined to waste the Witan’s time.” Henri looked puzzled. “I thought this was a genuine cause when I got your request, but seeing him here explains a lot,” the woman continued. “Eh Aelfric? This is becoming a habit is it not? Just like the equinox?” she sighed.
“Lesley,” Aelfric spoke carefully, “that is old ground that does not need to be re-travelled.”
“What are you talking about?” Henri looked from Lesley to Aelfric and back.
Lesley snorted nastily. “Three months ago, Henri, in the early hours of the equinox no less,” she answered, “Aelfric got Dierne to contact me and request the Witan help him.” Henri looked incredulous and Aelfric gazed warily at Lesley as she continued. “Astonishing! He tried to waste our time then and it seems, sadly, that you have been influenced by his propensity to rely on the expertise of others, instead of using your own gifts, and have chosen to disturb the whole Witan tonight.”
Henri was staring, open-mouthed, at Aelfric, who said nothing.
“Aelfric summonsed us?” Henri said. “But I got no summons!”
“That is because, as Prefect, I took the decision not to include you in the call to the Witan. The matter concerned Heath; I did not feel it appropriate to involve you. The Witan assessed Aelfric’s request and,” Lesley said with a grunt, “denied it.”
“Aelfric, I, I had no idea,” Henri stuttered, “No idea!” Then he turned and shouted at the rest of the gathering. “You all knew and all refused to help?” Guilty looks and a few murmurings passed amongst the group and then Lesley put up a finely-manicured hand.
“Henri, these members of the Witan assessed the situation and, under my direction, advised Aelfric that he could and should deal with Heath, without abstracting the rest of us from our own areas in the midst of an equinox. And we were not wrong were we?” she added with a shout as loud as Henri’s had been.
Henri was still struggling with what he had learned. “You Lesley? You took it upon yourself to decide that it was not appropriate to involve me? And, under
your direction, the Witan refused to help Aelfric — a fellow Custodian?”
“I am Prefect,” Lesley shouted at him. “My job is to ensure the precious time of the Witan is not wasted by unnecessary interruptions and pointless requests from Custodians who are not even members of that Witan. We have long known that Aelfric’s skills had come to exceed those of Heath’s; on that basis, and the basis that it was the equinox, we considered his request and denied it! We believed that he could manage. And he did manage, didn’t he?”
“HE DIED!” Seb couldn’t help himself; he yelled the words out without thinking, horrified at what he was hearing. Lesley stared at him, taken aback. “Aelfric died,” Seb repeated more quietly.
“Don’t be foolish,” Lesley spat at him. “He is right there!”
Seb was about to say more but Aelfric placed a hand gently on his shoulder and shook his head.
“Lesley,” he said, stepping forward, “As I say, that is old ground. I presume the fact that the request, on this occasion, came from another member of the Witan is what informed your decision to attend tonight? Given then, that your sleep has already been disturbed, and all are now gathered, would it not be better to complete the task so that you can swiftly return to your duties?”
“Unnecessary interruptions and pointless requests?” Henri wasn’t ready to let this go. “Pointless requests?” he repeated. “This was a cry for help from another Custodian and you refused it! In my absence, the Witan refused it?” He jabbed a finger at Lesley who lifted her chin and glared back at him.
“It was the equinox and he could manage,” she growled.
“Or was there more to it than that Lesley?”
Lesley looked away, as if Henri had hit a raw nerve, then eventually she mumbled, “As I said, we decided he could manage!”
Henri stared at her in disbelief for a moment then snarled, “You didn’t believe Aelfric could manage, Lesley. You refused him aid because you are still affronted! You still bear a grudge because Aelfric declined your invitation to join the Witan.” Lesley frowned and opened her mouth but suddenly Henri yanked the green ring from his finger and threw it to the ground. Every member of the gathered crowd gasped.
“The Witan’s original purpose — the very reason it was formed — was to provide assistance for any and all Custodians in whatever way they needed it and whenever they sought it!” Henri shouted. “It was designed for Custodians to — exactly as you said — rely on the expertise of others — not instead of using their own gifts, but as a means of supplementing those gifts with the knowledge and gifts of others.”
Sighing now, he lowered his voice, “I requested your help tonight because I feared that what my conscience tells me I should do with this soul,” he pointed at the sword, “— which is to send it to rest — would be the wrong thing to do and may visit upon us all, all manner of future woes. But you have proven to me what I have suspected for some time — the Witan is not what it was created to be; it is no longer a trustworthy source of advice and assistance, it has become a political monster acting on the egotistical whims of its members.
“I cannot trust the counsel of those who, just because they feel slighted, refuse another Custodian their help, even when his life and his SOUL are at risk. Lesley, thank you, I can manage. I will follow my own conscience and you will all have to live with yours!”
He turned away from a speechless Lesley and pointed to the ground to Seb’s left. “I believe the marker is there,” he mumbled and as Seb looked he could see a glistening swirl of silver on the grass. It was nothing more than a subtle glimmering but clearly followed the shape of the eternal knot.
“What do I do,” he whispered to Aelfric.
“Light it and use the word ‘unsegle’,” Aelfric whispered back.
Nodding Seb lifted his hand, captured light from the flamers and shone it on the patch of grass. “Unsegle,” he said quickly, and a bolt of light struck the seal.
Instantly Lesley rushed forward. “You need to banish her!” she yelled at Henri who ignored her.
“Seb, release the net!” Henri ordered.
Aelfric whispered again to Seb, “Same thing; same word. I’d put the sword down before you light it though if I were you.” He smiled, apparently undisturbed by the argument between Henri and Lesley.
Seb placed the sword on the grass at his feet but now Lesley stormed over and stomped her boot onto it.
“Banishment. She requires it!” she snapped at Henri.
Henri, standing more upright growled at Lesley, “Remove your foot and let me deal as I see fit.”
“But she requires banishment!” Lesley shouted. “From what you have told the Witan, that soul tried to kill three other Custodians using all manner of forbidden tools; she was willing to kill your Seer — your wife! She tried to kill this Custodian’s Sensor,” she pointed at Seb, “and his Weaver has paid the price for that attempt,” she snarled. “There is not one among you, or within your groups that she would not have used, harmed or killed in order to achieve her ends — the release of Heath.
“That is how you explained it, isn’t it?” Lesley stared at Dæved now, who hovered quietly by Henri’s side. He didn’t react and Lesley turned back to Henri. “Well, those are the same reasons Heath was banished — the threat he posed to Custodians and his heinous efforts to free a banished soul? If you send her soul to rest now, she will return and may very well try again. Her soul needs to be banished and that,” she shouted, “is the decision of the Witan!”
“Lesley,” Aelfric said, surprised. “It was not fear for our own lives that drove Seb and I to banish Heath. Nor even fear of his simply releasing Braddock — though that could never be permitted. Heath was trying to enable Braddock’s soul to take over the host body of a Custodian; it was the risk that posed to all souls, if he was successful, which was our overriding concern. If there had been an alternative way of stopping him, we would have taken it but, ultimately, Lesley, Heath was banished because we had no choice.
“With Nicole, there is a choice; she has been stopped. Whilst there is the possibility that, if she gets the chance, she will, once more, try to free Heath, none of those involved in sealing Heath and Braddock into the Soul Drop will ever give her what she needs to do so, they have proved that several times tonight. So, if Henri has seen enough in her Legacy for her to be given the chance to rest then that is what should happen.
“Henri has made his decision, and the Witan have not been consulted. You need to remove your foot Lesley,” Aelfric said softly, “or you may find yourself trapped in a link net for standing in the way of what another Custodian is trying to deal with.”
Lesley flinched and instantly removed her foot as though she had just realised she was standing on a hot coal. She huffed.
“Then why call us?” she growled.
“Ah, Lesley,” Henri said, suppressing a smile, “because, at the time, I did not realise I could manage by myself. You have shown me that I can. I apologise for wasting the Witan’s precious time.” With that he nodded at Seb.
Seb immediately shone light onto the sword.
“Unsegle,” he said and the sword exploded. It instantly contracted, falling to the grass silently but a shimmering mist had been freed and now it zoomed straight at Aelfric.
Henri raised his injured hand. The birthmark on it was still obscured by scorch marks and he was unable to shine light onto the soul.
“Aelfric,” he said, horrified as he realised he couldn’t stop it. The soul slammed into Aelfric’s chest, uninvited, uncalled and Aelfric staggered backwards.
“You see what you have done?” Lesley shouted but suddenly the mist trail flew out of Aelfric’s back. Immediately he span and, raising his own hand, shone flamer light onto the soul.
To Seb it seemed that the light struck something in the air nearby before reflecting onto the soul and he worried that something had gone wrong.
But now Aelfric smiled. “Rest,” he said.
Instantly the soul froze
and then drifted over the open top of the mausoleum and away above the graveyard behind.
Into the Light
“The blame for any disaster that follows now lies with you Aelfric!” Lesley yelled at him, clenching her fists. “Both you and Henri have misread or ignored a Legacy and endangered us all. What did you see in it? Anger, hatred, vengeance, cruelty, malpractice — all worthy traits for a soul to be sent to rest.”
“We do not require the opinion of the Witan, Lesley,” Henri said. There was a chorus of outrage from the Witan members.
“You have sent a soul, equipped with more knowledge than any simple human soul, and filled with all those dreadful emotions, back to Áberan,” Lesley ranted, “knowing that, one day soon, it will be allocated a new life, a new host body. You are fools!”
Henri ignored her. He gave Aelfric a brief bow before turning away and walking across to the mausoleum wall. Raising his hand, Aelfric made the door appear and Henri, with Dæved and Reynard, passed through it. None of them looked back.
The angry shouts from the Witan members were still ringing through the air and now, in Henri’s absence, were directed solely towards Aelfric. He raised his right hand and lowered his head, as if accepting their criticism and as the shouting stopped he spoke.
“Prefect, Witan members, Seb and I would also like to apologise for wasting your time.” He put an arm around Seb’s shoulders and began guiding him towards the door as the angry shouts started again. The Caretaker, picking up the small Sælen Sword, followed.
“Aelfric,” Lesley yelled over the noise to him and Aelfric stopped and turned. Everyone else fell silent. “What did you see?”
Aelfric smiled kindly at her. “A Custodian’s Legacy, Prefect, as you are aware, is not for those outside the connected groups to know. I am sorry,” he said.
“But you are not within the connected group,” Lesley blustered.
