“Shhh, beloved. All will be well. It will be over soon. Stay with me, my love, and soon, we will have all time to be together as one.”
Even through his tears, Florian smiled, and wished he could reach out for her.
“Cousin,” a new voice said, “why do you resist? Give them what they want. Please!”
“Thaddeus?” Florian’s voice came out in a croak. How long had it been since he had had water?
“Yes, Florian, it’s me. Give them what they want.”
“Poor Thaddeus. I want you to know…I don’t blame you. You had to save yourself. It’s in your nature.”
“It’s in all of our natures,” his cousin said, coming closer. “What else is there if not your own life?”
“My life is my House. That’s what it means, you know.”
“Don’t insult me with clichés.”
“Heh. That’s why I was Head of House. It’s not a cliché when it’s the truth.” He turned his head, one of the only movements allowed him, so that he couldn’t see Thaddeus any longer.
“Cousin, please,” he heard Thaddeus say, “I would save you if I could.”
Florian ignored him, and waited for Cassandra to come again, to appear in the dark like a small piece of heaven, sent here only for him. After a moment, he was vaguely aware of his cousin moving away.
“Fool,” the Advocate’s voice said, but somehow, it didn’t sound displeased.
The end, when it finally came, was anticlimactic. They hurt him more. They made him scream, and cry. But they could never drive Cassandra away, and finally, when they went too far, he smiled, sat up free of his bonds, and went to her.
CHAPTER 49
They were both exhausted by the time they stumbled back to the Towering Oaks compound. Shireen had sent the Whispering Pines soldier back to his own House, to tell his superiors of what had happened, and to rally them to Towering Oaks.
Orlando was moving weakly, the wound in his arm bothering him and Shireen was walking gingerly herself. The Soul Gaunts’ attacks left gashes that didn’t want to heal and continued to seep blood. Shireen had bandaged Orlando’s arm the best she could as they moved, but now, the scrap of cloth she had taken from the uniform of the dead Whispering Pines soldier was soaked through with blood.
At the gate to the compound, she collapsed against the nearest tree and waved to the sentry. It was hard to even lift her arm, and was getting even harder to think. Looking down, she saw that her leg was covered in blood. Who knew how much she had lost on her way here? But at least Willow and the other Healers would still be here, and now they were safe. They could be worked on while she told Lawrence what had happened.
Orlando was slumped at her feet, his back against the tree trunk and his face ashen.
“Hey,” Shireen said. “Are you alright?”
Orlando didn’t respond. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow. As she watched, his breath hitched in his throat and he gasped.
“Hey! Orlando!” She squatted down at his side, ignoring the flare of pain from her leg. “Come on! We made it.”
There was still no response, and Shireen felt ice form in her veins. He really didn’t look good at all, and the thought of losing Orlando, even as it flickered through her mind and was forcefully rejected, was scarier than anything the Soul Gaunts could generate.
She stood and looked wildly around. To her relief, several soldiers were running toward them. Within moments they were there and had lifted Orlando gently, bearing him away toward the scouts’ barracks. Two of the them stayed with her, and despite her well-known pride, insisted that she lean on them as they followed more slowly.
She felt a little of the fear flow out of her as she saw two Healers running to the barracks. Neither of them was Willow, which was a little disappointing, but any Healers who travelled with her were well-versed in all manner of wound care. Orlando was in good hands. She actually smiled as she felt her leg give way and barely remembered the other soldiers lifting her.
When she opened her eyes, it was to find her commander, Lawrence, standing nearby. She was lying face down on a table, a pillow under her cheek.
“How long was I…?”
“Not long,” Lawrence replied. “I asked the Healers to bring you around as quickly as they could. I’m sorry for that, since they should be looking at your leg, but I need to know what happened.”
“You did the right thing.” She winced as a Healer began cutting the leg of her pants. “I can deal with the leg, but you need to get everyone assembled, the whole House. Whispering Pines should be coming too.”
“First I need to know what happened. Where is Jediah?”
Shireen realized that Lawrence didn’t know about the Soul Gaunts. In order to avoid any unnecessary panic, Jediah and Florian had kept the news of the invasion to very few people. But the time for secrecy was gone.
“It’s a long story, but I can tell you the gist of it now. When we have more time, I’ll fill you in on everything.”
“I don’t like being kept in the dark by one of my subordinates, Shireen.” Lawrence’s voice was dangerously low.
“Blame Jediah,” she answered. “He made the decision on who should be told. There’s two things you need to know right now, though. First is that Jediah is gone. I can’t imagine that he’s still alive.” She stopped, drew in a breath and tried to keep her calm. “It’s Soul Gaunts. More than you can believe. They took over Rustling Elms, killed everyone, and took both Jediah and Florian.”
She paused, not to give Lawrence a chance to question her, but to gather her thoughts. Her commander seemed to sense this and stood by, brows furrowed as he waited for her to continue.
“The Soul Gaunts are with a man, he looks like one of us, but I don’t know who he is. He cast a spell that made the sky darken, and they came out…Orlando and I, and two from Whispering Pines, fought as hard as we could. I don’t think they wanted us dead though. I think they wanted us to get away, to tell everyone…” She stopped, the words choking her.
Lawrence's eyes went to the Healer who was still working on her leg. “How is it?”
“Bad,” a voice from behind her said. “There is some foulness at work here. The wound doesn’t want to close, but I’m getting it. Don’t worry.”
“What about Orlando?” Shireen asked, avoiding Lawrence’s eyes in case it was the worst news.
“They’re working on him. He’s stable, but in bad shape. Tell me the rest. Why was Jediah with Florian?”
“That’s not important right now. We need to gather all our forces and go back to Rustling Elms. It will be horrible, but the two Houses together can…”
“Can get killed,” Lawrence interrupted. “That’s why Jediah and Florian went there as they did, right? Because they knew that even the combined forces of the two Houses wouldn’t be enough. But why didn’t they go to Jamshir?”
“They did. He denied them any help, told Jediah that it was his role to protect the Greenweald.”
“I still don’t understand how Jediah and Florian are together. Why did Florian allow..."
“Because by bringing Solomon back we have a chance. He's gone to get Justice."
Lawrence was quiet, his face thoughtful. "So the whole exile was for nothing."
“Maybe not. Solomon did good on that earth. He killed a Soul Gaunt there. But now he's needed here. Florian agreed to it, but Jamshir didn’t. So, they did it on their own, Jediah sent me and Orlando after him. Now, he’s off somewhere, looking for his sword. That’s the other reason they went to Rustling Elms like they did. They were trying to buy time.”
Lawrence stepped away, turning his back to Shireen. She could see the tension in his shoulders. Finally, he sighed and turned back to her.
“There is much that I obviously don’t know. You will fill me in on all of it, omitting nothing. If Jediah is truly gone, then his orders no longer matter and we must do what’s best for our House. At the moment, I will assume command, until a new Head can be chosen. Fr
om this moment on, I am to be filled in on everything. Clear?”
“Clear,” Shireen said.
“Good. Now, rest while the Healers work on you. You can see Orlando when they say. Then, find me. We have work to do.”
He stalked away, leaving Shireen to lay her head down again and try to ignore the throbbing pain in her leg.
The Healer was working on her for more than two hours. Well past the time that it should have taken. “It’s a strange wound,” he said. “How did you get it?”
“Weren’t you listening?” she responded.
The man laughed softly. “People always think that. But when we’re working on a wound, or trying to cure a sickness, we’re concentrating on that. I know you and Lawrence were talking, but that’s all I know.”
“It was a Soul Gaunt,” Shireen said, keeping her voice as neutral as she could, trying to keep her impatience under control.
“Oh.” The Healer’s voice sank to a whisper. “Oh, dear. Willow must be told. We have to prepare.”
“Where is Willow anyway?”
“No idea. This morning, she went to check on those humans who came home with you. We haven’t seen her since.”
A cold dread, almost as if a Soul Gaunt itself was in the room with them, settled over Shireen. “Are you almost done?”
“Just about.” The Healer hummed to himself as he continued to tend to the wound, then, “There. That’s about the best I can do. You have to be careful on it, though. It’s a bad wound, and could reopen.”
Shireen rolled over and gingerly climbed off the table. Her leg was stiff, and was sore when she tried to walk, but she could manage. “Where’s Orlando?” she asked.
The Healer, an elderly man of the Folk, she could now see, indicated the next room. “He’s in there…but…”
“But nothing. I’m going to see him.” Without another word she hobbled toward the doorway. Her leg was definitely stiff, but she gritted her teeth and kept moving.
Inside the other room, Orlando lay on a table, face up. One Healer was standing near his head, hands placed on each side of his temples. Another stood at his side, massaging his chest, her voice muttering a soft chant. Yet a third tended to his arm, that one bent over, sweat dripping from his brow as he concentrated, a pile of bloody rags at his feet.
Shireen stood and stared for a moment, feeling her chest tighten. She knew his injury was worse than her own, but she had had no idea that it was that bad. And as always, he hadn’t complained as they returned to the compound.
“Is he going to be okay?” Her voice came out thin and watery. None of the Healers paid any attention to her, and she found herself grateful for that. It was far better that they concentrate on Orlando, and besides, she was terrified of what the answer could be.
As she stood watching, the horns sounded from the guards, playing the distinctive series of notes that meant an army was approaching. It was a signal that hadn’t been heard in the Greenweald in many a year, but that every soldier of Towering Oaks was trained to recognize. Whispering Pines had obviously come. She was surprised that they had mobilized so quickly.
With one last look at Orlando, she hobbled away, toward the gate where she could be with Lawrence as they greeted their allies.
It took longer than it should have for her to get there. When she did, she found not only Lawrence, but several other Towering Oaks soldiers, all standing in readiness, hands close to sword hilts or bows.
“What’s going on?” she muttered to herself, making her way forward. If it was Whispering Pines, then why the tension? She had told Lawrence to expect them. If it wasn’t them, who else? The Soul Gaunts would have simply attacked.
She moved as fast as she could, and climbed onto the viewing platform that Lawrence stood on.
There, filling the woods before the Towering Oaks compound, stretching back as far as she could see, stood rank upon rank of soldiers. All wearing the silver colors of House Glittering Birch. Jamshir himself sat astride a magnificent horse, and the Whispering Pines soldier that Shireen had sent off lay bound and unconscious on the ground in front of it.
“House Towering Oaks!” Jamshir called out. “Lay down your arms. Send out Jediah. He has been found guilty of treason and sedition, and his House is forfeit.”
CHAPTER 50
It was like being in the cave all over again. The constant dark and the ever-present fear, both the natural kind from being in peril, and the dread that emanated from the Soul Gaunts. There, there had been only one, and the fear and threat of harm had been enough to keep Luke in line, make him obey whatever the thing had asked of him.
Now, he was surrounded. Soul Gaunts haunted the whole tree, and ever since coming back in with their prizes, they had taken to entering the room that Thaddeus and he had claimed. They didn’t harm him, but they seemed to take great glee in flowing up to him, out of the darkness and pressing near, their black cloaks around him, sometimes touching him. Although they never used their claws, they laughed every time he flinched away. No matter how much it happened, he never got used to it.
Finally, they came to the room and forced him away from Thaddeus, flowing between the two and hissing at him.
“Out,” one said, pointing at the door, through which there was nothing but inky black.
“Thaddeus,” he said, trying to peer around the thing in front of him, “can you give me the stone?”
Before the mage could answer, the Soul Gaunt in front of Luke reached out and raked its claws across the front of his chest. The searing cold bit into him, and he screamed and reeled back. Blood seeped into his shirt from the shallow cuts it had left.
“Out,” it repeated, and Luke fled from the room.
In the hall others came. They surrounded him and pushed him down the hall, their cold claws clutching at him whenever he would stumble, their voices hissing and chuckling. He didn’t know where they were taking him, but tried to run straight, banging into furniture that sometimes decayed when he hit it, and sometimes stayed solid but covered in slimy fungi. He ran into walls, causing the Soul Gaunts to laugh all the more, but when he fell, they reached down, sharp nails biting into him and pulled him to his feet.
He ran for what felt like hours, sure that he was going mad. No matter how long he was here, his eyes couldn’t seem to adjust to the dark. They should have, but he was sure it was some effect of the nightmare creatures around him. So he ran, stumbling and gasping for breath, doing his best not to fall to the ground, not to be touched by them any more than he had to be.
Finally, they herded him into a room. One of them grabbed the back of his head, sending waves of pain though him and bright sparks of light dancing in his vision. He dropped to his knees with a cry and it let go, allowing him to collapse forward.
“Oh, come now,” the smooth, deep voice of the Advocate said. “Don’t be so melodramatic.”
Luke didn’t, and wasn’t sure that he could, say anything. He simply stayed on the ground, hunched over, not looking at the tall man.
“Nothing to say,” the Advocate mused. “Typical for your kind. I’ve found much the same thing when I’ve visited your earth. Oh, you all talk a lot, endlessly running on, but with no real substance.”
Luke looked up in surprise. There was the soft light in the room that often accompanied visits from the Advocate. He was there, seated in apparent comfort, in a chair that showed no sign of rot or decay. The Soul Gaunts had all left the room, although the feeling of dread was still near.
“What? You didn’t think we went to your world? Think again. We have been many places, and seen many things.”
“We?” Luke managed to croak out.
“Yes,” the Advocate smiled. “But that’s not for one such as you to know. I only called you here to thank you for your service, and to let you know that it has come to an end.”
“Then you’ll kill me now?” Luke was relieved. At last it would all be over. The pain, the fear, and the shame would all soon be gone. Not just from the time when he w
as taken to now, but from before, when he let the voices overcome him and had caused such misery in Lacy’s life. The end was fine with him.
“Not as such, no,” the Advocate answered, smiling again when he saw the disappointment that Luke knew he hadn’t been able to hide. “Nothing that easy. You see, I promised my friends that they could have you, in return for the life of one of their own on your wretched earth.”
While the thought of death didn’t scare him, the thought of being turned over to the Soul Gaunts to play with did. He tried to think, to come up with something that would keep him from that fate, prove that he was still valuable.
“Thaddeus mentioned that you were going to go to earth after you were done here. You’ll need someone. Someone to pave the way and help you. I can do that.” He hated hearing himself whine and plead, but anything, no matter how shameful, was better than being cast to those creatures.
“And why would I need that?”
“To do the things there that Thaddeus will do for you here. Anything. Tell me what you need, and I’ll help.”
The Advocate laughed, a sound of pure delight. “Oh, you humans. You really are something. Thaddeus has abilities that we may find useful. That is why we allow him to live and to continue to serve us. You, on the other hand, have nothing we need anymore. You’ve shown us how easy it is to bend you, to break you. We don’t expect any more resistance on your earth than what we’ve seen from you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Luke felt his temper unexpectedly flare up. Ever since he had come to this horrible place, and even before, he had been treated as less than, as something to be pushed around and used. And maybe he was, fine. He was never the bravest or most daring of people, but there were others. “You’re wrong,” he said again. “There are others much stronger than me. And with weapons. You have no idea.”
“On the contrary, we have every idea. Perhaps a demonstration would be in order. To give you something to think about while my friends amuse themselves with you.”
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