“The circle is complete,” the witches echoed.
“The circle holds me,” Ilvani murmured. Power surged through her limbs, the combined strength and magic of the wychlaran. She gasped. Agny, Sree, and the rest were suddenly in her thoughts and she in theirs. The whispers were deafening; she couldn’t tell one voice from another or hear her own thoughts in the barrage of sounds and secrets.
Throwing her head back, Ilvani sucked in the cold night air and watched the stars whirl above her. The owl soared high and called out to her, but she couldn’t answer him. The wychlaran chants grew louder. All the barriers, not just those erected in her mind, were breaking down.
The Veil, Ilvani thought. The Veil between the worlds dissolves in this small, protected space. She had no choice but to walk the dark roads with these unfamiliar women and pray that they did not intend her death.
The last sound Ilvani heard before oblivion was the sound of trees ripping themselves from the earth.
In the darkness, and with only one eye, Cree still saw them first. He waved his katar to get the others’ attention and pointed to the darkness beyond the ice-encased torches. The swaying motion of the trees wasn’t caused by the wind, but by a spirit walking the earth on two legs, thick gnarled trunks covered in ice and pine needles woven like sinew. The weight of the tallest branches bent the treant over so that it walked stooped, its branches dragging the ground and picking up snow and dirt.
“They’re bigger than I thought,” Cree told his brother, who stood beside him.
“I still think burning them is the best way,” Skagi said. “What do you think, Ashok?”
When Ashok didn’t reply, Cree turned to look at him. Ashok stared out over the lake, watching the ritual. He held a small metal vial in his left hand. It was empty. He wiped his mouth and threw the vial in the water.
“Are you ready, Ashok?” Cree asked. He didn’t know what had been in the vial-perhaps a healing draught given to him by the witches. Many of Ashok’s wounds in the fight with the winter wolves had been slow to heal.
“I’m ready,” Ashok said. He braided his chain around his hands and stood beside Skagi.
The second treant, the smaller Needle, came behind its older mate. Its legs were more spindly and fragile-looking. Cree thought one good slice with his katar would drop the creature. He waited for the Rashemi berserkers to act first, but the warriors didn’t move. They simply stood their ground by the lake, blocking the path to the witches’ raft.
“What are they doing?” Skagi hissed. “Are we going to fight them or aren’t we?”
One of the warriors stepped forward, and to Cree’s surprise, held up his hand in a formal greeting as the fey creatures approached.
“We beg you, children of the pinewood, to turn back,” he said. “Accept our offerings of peace. We mean you no harm this night.”
Skagi cursed under his breath. He shifted his falchion from hand to hand. Cree shared his brother’s impatience. He’d never encountered a treant before, but he knew how the creatures would behave in Ilvani’s presence. They would not listen to reason.
“Please, spirits, turn back,” the warrior said. The larger treant was almost upon him.
“Get back, you fool!” Cree shouted, but his warning came too late. The treant swept its needle-thin upper branches down and impaled the warrior through the chest.
“Looks like they’re not in the mood to talk,” Skagi said. “Eh, Ashok?”
Skagi cursed again, but this time there was true fear in his voice. Cree turned just in time to see Ashok collapse on the lakeshore.
“Cover me!” Cree shouted to his brother. He kneeled next to Ashok as the berserker warriors ran up to flank their fallen comrade and fight the treants. Skagi positioned himself in front of them.
“Looks like the whole damned forest is moving out there,” Skagi said. “Tell Ashok this is no time for sleeping.”
Cree bent over Ashok’s chest, his ear pressed against his breast to listen for a heartbeat. He sat back, stunned. Distantly, he heard a sound like dozens of trees ripped from the earth by their roots. More of the pine trees stirred to life and moved toward the lake. He tried to speak but couldn’t.
Skagi turned, saw his face, and barked, “What is it? What’s wrong with him? Tell me, godsdamnit!”
“He’s dead,” Cree said.
Ashok stood on the battlefield and waited for the treants to come to him. Something didn’t feel right. The sky was immense, the light of the stars so bright, it looked like daylight. He looked around, but the Rashemi berserkers were gone. So were Skagi and Cree.
Dread washed over Ashok. He turned to face the lake. The raft was empty except for a single figure huddled in a brown cloak. Her back was to Ashok. He couldn’t tell the figure’s identity.
Gripping his chain, Ashok walked out onto the dock. “Where is everyone? What’s happened out there?” he shouted. The figure didn’t move. When he looked down at his feet, Ashok realized that the dock had vanished. He walked suspended upon the water’s surface.
The vial. The sky was too big, the stars too bright-he’d crossed over into some other realm, the place of the ritual. If that was true, where were the other wychlaran and Ilvani?
He hurried across the water to the raft. When he stepped onto the edge, the craft rocked ever so slightly, and the figure whirled to face him.
Ashok didn’t recognize the woman at first. Beneath her cloak hood, she wore no mask. He’d grown used to identifying the witches by the markings on their masks, and it was only when he looked at the woman’s eyes that he felt the flash of familiarity.
“Sree,” he said, “where are we?”
The witch’s eyes widened when she looked at him. Now that her face lay bare before him, Ashok easily read the fear and confusion in her expression.
“This isn’t right,” she said.
Dread turned to panic inside Ashok. “Where are the others?” he demanded.
“Dead,” she said.
“What?” he cried.
Her expression hardened then, and Sree drew a curved knife from her belt. “You. You’re supposed to be dead,” she said, and came at him with the brandished knife.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
On the lakeshore, Cree fended off a swipe from one of the animated trees. As far as he could tell, the treants directed the whole forest to attack them, but the animated creatures looked very different from the pines they’d walked among earlier that day. They were taller than man height, their branches and needles twisted and bent to assume a vaguely human shape. Their knobby heads had no eyes or mouths, yet they descended upon the Rashemi in swarms, rough limbs tearing through the warriors’ armor and clawing at their eyes.
“Careful, Brother,” Cree said as he sliced off one of the stabbing limbs before it could land a blow to Skagi’s face. “We can’t afford to lose any more eyes between us.”
“Just keep them back,” Skagi snarled at him, “and check him again.”
“I tell you, he’s gone,” Cree said. He went down on one knee under two of the flailing creatures, but Skagi hacked them away with his falchion. “We need to fall back to a more defensible position, or they’re going to overwhelm us.”
“I’m not leaving him.” Skagi stomped on the animated tree when it fell and hacked at its limbs until it lay in pieces on the ground. “Damn the witches, but I’ll set the whole place on fire before I leave his body to them.”
Cree glanced at Ashok, who still lay prone on the lakeshore. The other Rashemi fought the animated trees, but the treants were breaking through their lines toward the water.
“The torches,” Cree said. “If we can free them from the ice-”
“I already tried,” Skagi said, “while you were trying to revive him. The ice is like stone. I can’t get to the flame.”
“The witches didn’t take any chances,” Cree muttered. He glanced out to the lake. The circle of masked women huddled together. Their chants rose to the night sky. He couldn’t see Ilvani or the
child in their midst. He glanced back at Ashok’s body. “They must have done something to him.”
“But why-” Skagi roared in pain as one of the tree spirits raked its branches across his back. He dropped to the ground and squashed the creature beneath him until its wood talons released him. He rolled to one side and let Cree hack the thing to pieces before it could rise up again.
“I don’t know,” Cree said. “It makes no sense. Why would they slay one of their own defenders?”
“Godsdamnit!” Skagi batted aside another of the clawing spirits. “Take me back to the Shadowdark and give me a worthy opponent, not a stick!”
“We have to fall back,” Cree said. “Help me carry him.”
Skagi waved his falchion to push the swarm back long enough to give them an opening. They hoisted Ashok’s corpse between them and carried him to the dock where the Rashemi warriors gathered in a line.
“What are they doing?” Skagi cried.
Cree looked and saw that the gathered warriors had lowered their weapons. Low murmurs escaped their lips, as if they were praying for renewed strength.
“The gods may not be busy, but we could use aid,” Cree shouted angrily. The warriors ignored him and continued their low chant.
“Ah well, time to wade in and choose our deaths, Brother,” Skagi said. He twirled his falchion and spread his hands to welcome the approaching treants.
Cree clapped his brother on the shoulder and looked through his single eye at the mad onslaught of fey. The life flowing through him was like nothing he’d felt since the day they’d run through the caves of Ashok’s enclave with death just a pace behind them.
“Tempus, remember Ashok,” Cree prayed aloud. “He is the warrior, the beast tamer, the soul’s path through the shadows. He is the shadar-kai-and your servant, whether he knows it or not. Praise Tempus.”
“Praise Tempus,” Skagi echoed.
Their prayer ended, and at the same time, the Rashemi’s chant became screams.
Skagi and Cree turned to see the warriors in the full grip of their berserker rage. Their faces contorted, eyes unfocused, the Rashemi howled and attacked the rampaging spirits with renewed energy.
“Gods,” Cree murmured in awe as the sea of violence flowed past him and his brother.
Skagi grinned at him. “We might live through this after all.”
Ashok dodged Sree’s attack and held out his hands. The chain stretched between his fists blocked the dagger blade. He twisted and wrenched the weapon from her hands. It landed in the water and sank. Both of them stared at where the weapon had been, too stunned to move. When Ashok finally looked at Sree, her face was a hard mask almost as unreadable as the wooden one.
“You tried to kill me,” Ashok said. He felt that surge of fear again. “You’re trying to disrupt the ritual. Why?”
“The ritual will continue,” Sree said. “No harm will come to my sisters or Elina.”
“It’s Ilvani,” Ashok said. He took a step forward, clutching the spiked chain until he felt blood on the metal. “You’re after her.”
“I would not have involved you,” Sree said, “but I couldn’t take the chance that you might see what was happening to her and try to intervene. I must destroy the link to Yaraella. It’s the only way to quell the telthors.”
“What about the ritual!” Ashok cried. “Your sisters are trying to do that-”
“They will fail,” Sree said.
“The wychlaran don’t believe that,” Ashok said. “Agny doesn’t know you’re acting on your own, does she? You’re hiding something from all of them.”
“Don’t presume to know our ways, soulless one,” Sree said. “You willingly put yourself in our power. Now I do what I must.”
“It’s Yaraella, isn’t it?” Ashok said. “You don’t want the wychlaran to communicate with her spirit. What will she tell them, Sree?”
The witch looked at him a long time. Resignation crept into her expression, and a guilt so profound it made him want to reach out to her, despite the risk of attack. Ashok could scarcely believe how easy it was to uncover her secrets, now that she no longer wore a mask.
They are so accustomed to having shields, Ashok thought, but this realm, wherever it is, stripped away all the barriers. She can’t hide anymore.
“Yaraella will say that a monster hunts her in death,” Sree said at last, “a monster I created.”
“Yaraella didn’t kill herself, did she?” Ashok said. “It was you.”
“I loved Yaraella. I love her child. But she made a choice, and I had to make one too.”
“You murdered her,” Ashok said.
“You wouldn’t understand because you are not of our people,” Sree said. There was no derision in her tone this time. “This is a harsh land, surrounded by enemies who would see us annihilated or enslaved. The wychlaran are this land’s only defense against that doom. It’s our duty to defend our people. I tried to tell Yaraella this, but she never listened.”
“She was in pain,” Ashok said, remembering Ilvani’s words that night when they’d laid the Tuigan spirit to rest. “Her burden-”
“Would have been eased by her sisters,” Sree cried. “Our magic and guidance could have helped her cope with her powers. We would not have left her alone with the voices of the spirits. Her bond with the spirit realm could have been a powerful tool to drive back the darkness, but she refused to use it in that way.”
“So you killed her for it,” Ashok said, “as punishment?” Her coldness stunned him.
“Not a punishment,” Sree said, “but a means to an end. If Yaraella refused to help us, I knew there was another.”
“You wanted Elina,” Ashok said. “It was about her all along. You wanted her power.”
“If I raise her, I can train her to be the link we need between this world and the spirit world,” Sree said. The passion in her voice bordered on desperation. “Don’t you see? Her gifts are too vital to waste.”
“Are her gifts worth the cost?” Ashok asked. “How many have suffered because of your betrayal? Your sisters are risking their lives to correct your mistakes-”
“I didn’t know the spirits would be angered!” For the first time, Sree’s resolve faltered. Her voice shook. “I acted for the good of all.”
“You spoke of trusting the gods, and all the while you played their part,” Ashok said. “You stood before me, the hypocrite, asking me to have faith.” He laughed at the futility of it all. “It’s certain I have none left now.”
It was Sree’s turn to laugh at him. “Of course you do, soulless one. You scream as one of the faithful, rail at the gods for all the terrible things that happen to your loved ones, and you ask them to change fate. Tempus’s hands are upon you, and now you want to guide His hands, but it doesn’t work that way, mortal man. The gods do not exist to serve our vanity.”
“Then we should be able to change our own fates,” Ashok said. “To make the choices that-”
“Bring death and destruction upon us and those we love,” Sree said. “Yes, Ashok, we all have a choice.” Grief constricted her features for a breath, but she shook it away in anger. “And most of the time, we choose wrongly.”
“I’m sorry for your choices,” Ashok said. “But you can end this now. Tell the others what you’ve done. Put your fate in their hands.”
“They would kill me,” Sree said. “I can accept that fate, but my work is not done. The child must be taught, protected. I knew Yaraella better than anyone. Her child loves me.”
“The child doesn’t know you killed her mother.”
“Her mother squandered her gifts, and she was going to lead her child down the same path. The spirits speak to them. The telthors whispered secrets to Yaraella that they would tell no others. Do you know what that’s worth?”
“No,” Ashok said. “But I’ve seen the other part of that gift. When the spirits won’t stop speaking, and the shadows move constantly, so you don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. I walked in that worl
d for a time, and the terror of the place almost destroyed me. It haunts my dreams even now.”
Sree glanced away, and Ashok saw the look of grief and regret that marked her features.
“When I drove the knife into her, up to the moment I saw the look of hatred in her eyes, I thought I was doing right,” Sree said. “I thought she wanted the kind of peace that only death could bring. She might be terrified for an instant, but then I imagined she would thank me for ending her suffering.”
“But she didn’t,” Ashok said.
“I see the look of hatred she turned on me every time I close my eyes,” Sree said. “I betrayed her. There is no forgiveness for me. The spirits show their hatred by attacking what I love-this village and the people I’ve spent my life protecting. All I have left is to train the child. Elina is the future of our sisterhood. I will teach her to use her gifts and become an othlor. When I’ve accomplished my task, I will join Yaraella in death. No one will be quicker than me to enact punishment on that day.”
Ashok believed her, but it wasn’t enough. “I won’t let you kill Ilvani.”
Sree shook her head. “It’s too late. The poison I put in that vial has already infected your blood. Your companions will think you faded.”
Ashok stepped toward her. He rattled his chain. “I don’t feel any pain,” he said. “Your poison isn’t very effective.”
She gave him a look of pity. “We stand in the realm of the spirits. The witches may bide here for a time, and your Ilvani, too, but it’s no place for you, save in death.”
Ashok stiffened. “You’re lying,” he said automatically. “The ritual-”
“Is happening as we speak,” Sree said. “I can feel the presence of my sisters, the power of the circle. I feel Ilvani too. When I take her, I swear to you it will be fast and painless, just as your death was.”
“No,” Ashok snarled. He took another step forward.
“You can’t harm me here, Ashok,” Sree said, but Ashok saw the uncertainty in her eyes. It gave him hope. His limbs trembled with suppressed anger. He let one end of his chain drop to the raft and snapped the other to strike at Sree’s face.
Unbroken Chain: The Darker Road (single books) Page 27
