War of the Raven Queen: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 6

by Araya Evermore

  Issa managed a faint smile—half of her proud of what had been achieved, and the other half sick with worry for Yisufalni. She watched the commander lay the spear down. Before her stood a High Commander of the Feylint Halanoi and a leader of the Knights of the Raven. Once an ancient, powerful King, now a soldier who remembered all his past lives, their triumphs and transgressions.

  ‘What is it like? To remember them all,’ Issa asked. She must have caught him at the right moment for he understood what she meant.

  ‘I shut them out. They get in the way of this life, mostly. But all of them have led me up to where I am now. Lately I find a sense of peace I've not known before, yet there’s so much still to do.

  ‘In the North, before we took an excursion into enemy lands and I lost everyone except Bokaard,’ he winked at the big man. ‘I met a young elf-girl in Port Nordastin. She had the Sight and knew who I was—or had been—long before I had any idea. She told me “one lifetime is not enough”. Just one life is not enough to do all the things we came here to do.’

  Issa considered his words. That was why she had come here, to complete a task, a quest she’d started eons ago. ‘I think I know what you mean. Sometimes I get glimpses of my life on Aralansia, before the…’ she swallowed the pain and the visions of a planet being destroyed. ‘It gets in the way of this life. I can only deal with the pain of one life, let alone hundreds.’

  Marakon didn’t say anything immediately, perhaps he was remembering something from long ago, like she was. When he came back to her, he changed the conversation. ‘Those things in the Dark Rift you spoke about, the Light Eaters, do they come from Aralansia?’ He took another swig of dwarven spirits, winced and stoppered up the metal flask.

  Issa shuddered, remembering the giant formless beings and the tortured noise they made, the deep hatred and loss they exuded. ‘No. They’re ancient, even older than Aralansia. Maybe from when the Dark Rift was first formed.’

  ‘And the four horsemen, you said they were Knights of Maphrax?’ Marakon asked and continued when she nodded. ‘Sent by Baelthrom to hunt the other planes, they’ll hunt Murlonius down too. Where do they come from? Who are they?’

  Issa didn’t want to think about them. They were waiting for her to reveal herself. Not even the Realm of the Dead could hide her. ‘I don’t know what they are but suddenly they were there, hunting down all that Baelthrom desires.’ She swallowed and closed her eyes, but they were there behind her closed lids, dark and immaterial. They walked towards her, the spines that were the horses’ manes clacking, their breath as soot in the grey fog, their eyes leaking darkness and swallowing the light. One reared, scaly, oil-slick skin glistening, its reins clenched in the gauntleted fist of its rider. On that fist a ring flashed.

  Issa forced her eyes open. ‘I remember something odd. I remember seeing it at the time and thinking how strange it was, how out of place for something undead to be wearing an adornment. One of them has a ring, a gold ring. On it is a prancing horse.’

  Marakon dropped the flask. It clanged on the stone floor and Issa looked at his stricken face.

  ‘No,’ he breathed, his eye wide. ‘It cannot be.’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Issa, a cold chill shivering down her back, Marakon’s face was a picture of horror.

  ‘Meyer.’ Marakon whispered the name of his knight but it went through Issa like a knife. ‘Meyer was taken by them.’

  He jumped up, screaming, ‘You bastard!’ He punched the air then spun away and leant upon the pedestal, panting heavily. Anyone who had been asleep was now on their feet, weapon in hand, looking wildly from left to right.

  Bokaard and Eiretonne held up their hands for calm. The Atalanphian laid a tentative hand on Marakon’s shoulder. Issa got to her feet not knowing what to do. Could the horseman really be one of his knights of old? Had Baelthrom taken them and damned their souls eternally to Oblivion like so many others?

  Slowly Marakon stood upright and composed himself. He turned around, rage still vivid behind his composure.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Issa, aware of how weak it sounded.

  ‘I have to kill them, I have to kill them to set them free, kill my knights, my own friends,’ Marakon whispered. A tremble shook his shoulders.

  ‘They’re not your friends anymore,’ Eiretonne said. ‘There’s nothing in them but darkness. They’re gone—’

  ‘Into Oblivion, into that bastard thing in the sky. I know.’ Marakon hissed, staring up at the ceiling as if seeing the Dark Rift there and daring to challenge it. ‘They must be killed before they take Murlonius too.’

  Issa nodded, wishing for all the world she knew how to be rid of them. She sighed. ‘I feel like we’re going around in hopeless circles, saving people and losing others, taking back lands and losing more.’

  Eiretonne laid his axe against the pedestal and sat down beside it. ‘Lans Himay may not have fallen—yet. But until the Dark Rift is gone, until he is gone, we can never be free.’

  The ground rocked and the air sizzled, tearing Issa from her sleep.

  She awoke looking into the Flow. A spray of dark magic hit the shield which shuddered and flickered wildly, threatening to collapse. She bolstered the shield, then squinted into the darkness trying to locate the source of the attack.

  There, on a ledge back the way they had come, stood necromancers. Hurtling towards them ran a horde of Maphraxies clinging to the chains of rabid death hounds. Along each crossroad except one, Maphraxies streamed.

  ‘They came out of nowhere,’ gasped a soldier who had been on watch, his sword tip quivering.

  ‘Necromancer magic,’ hissed Ekem, his spear at the ready.

  Issa gripped her sword, trying to fathom how many there were.

  ‘At least two hundred,’ said Marakon, reading her mind. ‘Run!’ he screamed. ‘We’ll fight them on the bridge and in the tunnel where they cannot attack us from all sides.’

  Issa lifted her hands. ‘Fire,’ she commanded. A wall of blue flames spread before her and smashed into the Maphraxies. Without waiting to watch, she turned and fled after the others.

  She made it onto the long narrow bridge and slammed into the back of a soldier who had suddenly halted. Streaming out of the doorway ahead came more Maphraxies, roaring their commands in guttural speak. Beyond the din of baying death hounds, she felt the necromancers’ magic building.

  A death hound lunged for her. She stepped away and stabbed her sword into its side. It staggered and tumbled over the bridge, its desperate howls taking a long time to fade away.

  Another came on, followed by its Maphraxie handler. She barely missed its snapping jaws as she sank her sword into its neck. It fell, dragging her down. The soldier behind her grabbed her and she yanked her sword free. A green feathered spear slammed into the Maphraxies throat before she could reach it. It tumbled over the bridge, silent.

  She didn’t have time to counteract the necromancers’ magic. It snaked above and below. The bridge between her and the Maphraxies exploded, rock and stone spraying into the air, leaving a gaping chasm. There was no way forward. A second explosion sounded. She glanced behind. There was no way back.

  The whole bridge trembled. Issa staggered for balance on the narrow walkway. ‘It’s falling!’ she gasped.

  ‘With us on it!’ said the soldier.

  Issa grabbed hold of Illendri as the bridge swayed sickeningly. She drew upon Earth Magic, feeling it fill the orb. ‘Balance!’ she cried. Their swaying section of bridge gently righted itself. Shelley entered the Flow. Issa prayed the dwarf would keep the necromancers at bay whilst she focused on the bridge.

  Earth Magic, assist me, Issa prayed.

  There was a ledge, far down on the opposite wall, and what looked like a doorway with no bridge or steps to reach it. The din of cracking rocks filled her ears and soldiers screamed. Sweat trickled down her face. Illendri flared, straining to hold the bridge upright, its magic pulsing through her in powerful waves. But it was not enough.

 
The bridge emitted a sighing groan as it fell. She tried to control it, to turn the bridge in some manner. In the Flow, time slowed, the bridge moved in inches. A great crack told her it had lifted from its arches completely and she now held the entire bridge with all the soldiers upon it. She could barely breathe. Her pulse pounded in her ears and her teeth ached from being clenched so hard.

  The ledge loomed ahead and then they were hurtling towards it. The bridge slammed lengthways onto it and everyone sprawled. One soldier was thrown over the edge, his horrified screams cut short as he slammed into the cliff face. Issa rolled and crashed into a rock, the breath knocked from her lungs.

  Black magic surged, bringing her back to her senses. She clawed onto her feet. Ehka squawked madly and flew to the doorway. Illendri turned cold in her hand, spent. Shaking all over, she gripped her talisman and formed another shield. It was weak; she couldn’t keep this up for long.

  ‘Into the tunnel, follow the raven!’ Marakon screamed.

  Issa followed the others inside, each step staggering. She heard a magical explosion followed by the agonised screams of the soldiers behind them, but she couldn’t stop.

  Rocks tumbled from the ceiling as the tunnel began to crumble. A boulder fell, knocking down the soldier beside her. She glanced back and wished she hadn’t. The man was crushed and lifeless, blood trickling over the ground. The whole tunnel shook, and she leapt onward. She tried to pull on Illendri to calm the rocks, but it would not respond.

  The ground groaned and splintered, an enormous crack yawned before her. It grew wider as she leapt over it, barely making it to the other side.

  She turned, ready to help the next person, but all she could see was billowing dust and rubble. She staggered onward. The soldier in front of her stumbled, forcing her to leap over him. The ground opened up again and then she was rolling into the chasm.

  Marakon!’ she screamed, scrabbling wildly to grab hold of something, anything, but her hands were scraped raw on rocks as she helplessly rolled into the darkness. Somehow, she managed to stop tumbling and instead slid forwards with the rubble into the blackness. Unable to stop her descent, the floor vanished and she found she was suddenly falling.

  A moment later she hit the ground hard. The darkness completed itself.

  20

  Hall of Memories

  Issa awoke to the cold hands of Maggot on her cheek.

  The rotting smell of the demon so close assaulted her senses. She stared blearily up into his face, one grimy tooth protruding over his lip, the only light coming from his yellow eyes which really did glow in the dark.

  ‘Issy?’

  ‘Oh, my head,’ Issa groaned. There was a sore lump on the back of her skull but thankfully the skin hadn’t broken. She trembled all over but was otherwise whole. Gingerly, she sat up. There was no sound, no light, no anything. There wasn’t even black magic. The nothingness made her shiver.

  ‘Thank the goddess you’re here Maggot.’ She couldn’t imagine being down here alone, dying slowly in the dark.

  ‘Where is here, Issy?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Taking long slow breaths to calm herself, she created a little indigo light with the talisman.

  She was in a perfectly square room only a few paces wide. At head height, there were several small square holes and a slight breeze of fresh air came from them. Could this be some kind of airshaft? In one corner of the room was a carved doorway, about dwarf height.

  She got up, drew her sword and went to it. Maggot followed. Peering around the corner of the stone wall, she saw nothing but a straight tunnel of smooth rock. She considered sending Maggot to find the others but, again, the thought of being down here alone chilled her to the bone.

  She let out a long, dejected sigh. ‘Well, come on then, let’s get moving. There’s no point crying down here.’ Hunched over, sword in hand, she made her way forwards.

  Further on, the tunnel heightened and she found she could just about stand up straight. There were no bends or turns or branches—it just went on in one direction. She trailed a hand along the smooth walls. ‘At least this was made by the light dwarves,’ she said, finding solace in the thought.

  A green light flashed in the tunnel far ahead. She stopped and raised her sword. A noise echoed—it sounded like a squawk.

  ‘Ehka?’ she dared to call out.

  Maggot flew ahead.

  ‘Wait, Maggot. It could be a trick.’ Not wanting to be alone, she rushed after him, coming to an abrupt stop when the tunnel ended and branched left and right. Another squawk sounded, closer, then the green light appeared and rushed towards her. In moments, it was buzzing in her face and squealing.

  ‘Stupid swamp fairy!’ growled Maggot.

  Issa wafted at the fairy irritably. ‘Thiashar? Stop that. What are you doing here? How did you get here? Ehka?’ The raven landed at her feet. The swamp fairy squealed and buzzed around Maggot.

  ‘You found me, praise the light,’ said Issa. ‘Did you find the others? Are they coming?’

  ‘What others?’ Thiashar giggled and bounced on Maggot’s head, jumping to avoid his swatting hand. ‘I came alone and found your raven lost in the tunnels looking for you. Anyway, I’ve found it, after so long hidden, it was me who discovered it again. You have to come.’

  ‘Found what?’ Issa frowned.

  Thiashar giggled again. ‘There’s a place—an ancient, forgotten place deep in the ground beneath Tarvalastone. The Seers know of it but few others. It was lost long ago, even before the Dwarves of Light made this their home. When you and the necromancers destroyed the tunnels, the magic revealed older ones. But it’s not exactly in Maioria, more sort of between here and the world of fae.’

  ‘Thiashar, what are you talking about? This is all meaningless to me. Did Iyena send you? Ah, I thought she did. Now all we need to do is get out of here and back to the others.’ The thought of adventuring right now was abhorrent.

  Thiashar hummed excitedly and bounced in the air. ‘Yes, but you must see what has been found.’

  ‘Why?’ Issa shrugged, trying not to be irritated. ‘We’re trying to take back a city and all you can do is go on about some forgotten place. I don’t see why…’ The swamp fairy zoomed away into the darkness. Issa slumped and Ehka croaked.

  ‘She’s so annoying,’ Maggot harrumphed.

  Issa closed her eyes and tilted back her head. I can’t just ignore something ancient found! Her own insatiable curiosity getting the better of her, she hurried after the swamp fairy.

  At the end of the tunnel before an exit—or entrance—Thiashar waited. A strange haze filled the doorway. Issa sheathed her sword and held a hand to it. It felt fuzzy, like static.

  ‘It’s a gateway,’ said Thiashar knowingly.

  ‘I can see that,’ Issa murmured. She swallowed audibly, watching Maggot peer into the strange white mist. He sniffed it, wrinkling up his nose.

  ‘Is it safe?’ she asked.

  Thiashar buzzed up and down excitedly. ‘How do you think I got here? There’s nothing evil, silly, it’s only an ancient place of mystery… and a touch of fairy.

  ‘Iyena had a vision. She said that when the Free People’s invade the lands of the dark dwarves, a forgotten place will be revealed. In that place, answers will be found. She knew it would be discovered soon and told me to lead you to it. She wants to know what you will see.’

  ‘Maggot, no—’ but before Issa could stop him, the little demon disappeared into the mist. Moments later, he stuck his head out again.

  Issa let go her breath. Ehka jumped after the demon.

  ‘Come on, scaredy-cat!’ Thiashar giggled and disappeared after the bird.

  Issa wondered about Marakon and the soldiers and all that might be occurring on land that she should be involved in. It’s not like we have a city to take back or anything. But without Thiashar, she was stuck down here. Besides, she hadn’t noticed another exit, anyway.

  Holding her sword high, Issa stepped into the doorway.
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br />   Dar watched Iyena’s eyes turn first blue and then completely white as she stared into their Holy of Holies.

  Suli sat beside her. The water in the pool of the small crystal cavern shimmered with effervescence. The white crystals shone even whiter in the glow of the three staves resting on the floor beside the pool.

  Iyena spoke, her voice strong and filled with wonder, ‘Thiashar has found the Hall of Memories. As it is written, “When the forces of light entered the dark city, then will the Halls reopen again.” And now they have. She has led the Raven Queen there, just as we have foreseen. What Issa will see now, will shape the things to come.’

  Iyena sat back on her calves, her shining eyes never blinking, never leaving what she saw in the still water. When she spoke again, her voice was a whisper. ‘Is this the end? No, it’s just the beginning of the end. The shield protecting Myrn is failing, as we have also foreseen.’

  An image formed in the pool. In it, the shield above Myrn flickered purple then became transparent. It began to crack, like glass. Dar took a silent breath and wiped away a tear. The cracks had appeared a few days ago, and each day the shield weakened under Baelthrom’s assaults. He hunted relentlessly for them now. But it wasn’t just his power causing this—the close proximity of the Dark Rift and the flood of the Under Flow into Maioria was now overpowering their own magic.

  ‘We cannot withstand Baelthrom’s attacks for much longer.’ Iyena shook her head. ‘He knows the end times have begun and will fight ever harder. We must prepare to protect only that which is most sacred: Sheyengetha; the Star Portal; our crystals; our people, and our knowledge.

  ‘On the Endless Planes the last battle for Maioria will occur. We may be able to save a fraction of Myrn, but we cannot hope to protect the other islands. We must leave here, soon. Do not cry, beloved Dar, it is as we have foreseen. We must be strong; all things change in time.’