Storm Holt (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 3)

by A. Evermore

  ‘There is a stronger, older power at the Temple of Celene. Built as it was atop a sacred vortex millennia ago. Perhaps this power can help us now.’ He closed his eyes and visualised the temple. ‘Take me to the Temple of Celene,’ he commanded the orb. It responded instantly.

  There was the briefest feeling of motion, coolness, and then all was still. The Mother’s Chamber materialised into hazy fields of energy. Two figures appeared in the haze, one dressed darkly and leaning over another dressed in white lying on the floor.

  ‘Cirosa,’ Freydel said aloud, recognising her instantly. Seeing her on the floor he started towards her then paused at the look of cold fury on the man’s face. Memory of that face stirred within him, but he couldn’t place it.

  ‘Cirosa, are you all right,’ he called out, but the figures didn’t move and all he could hear was an indistinct murmur as they spoke. It dawned on him then. They cannot see or hear me.

  Two huge Maphraxies entered the room. Their deformed, heavily muscled bodies and twisted faces made him grimace. He shrank back from them, praying that they really could not see him. If they were here then Baelthrom was close, watching. They slung the limp form of Cirosa over the backs and then everyone left. He let go a long-held breath.

  When they had gone, he sat in the darkness for a long time, trying to calm his racing heart. Baelthrom was certainly near. He had to get away. They had taken Cirosa, they would either kill her or make her one of them. She was lost. Why did they take her? The orb brought him here, could it show him why?

  ‘Why did they take Cirosa? Show me,’ he commanded the orb. It pulsed. Movement came again and this time he felt himself moving distinctly backwards.

  Now he was outside by the temple next to the old yew tree. It was dark and only a few lights from the dormitory windows lit up the night. Ahead, he could just make out the large feathered form of a harpy and Cirosa sat opposite it. They were speaking. He shuddered at the sight of the bird woman, and then froze. Harpies could use magic, who knows what they could see in the astral planes. He could not hear what was said, but the harpy tossed her a package.

  ‘What is in the package?’ Freydel breathed. He had not intended to command the orb this time, but it pulsed at his words and he moved forwards.

  He felt dizzy as he took in Cirosa’s office, with its book-lined walls and large desk. Cirosa was sitting down, staring deep into an amulet. He blinked. It couldn’t be… but his eyes weren’t deceiving him. One of Baelthrom’s blood stones. There was a look of rapture on her face.

  ‘Is she in league with Baelthrom…?’ he said in shock. The orb pulsed.

  ‘Stop, enough,’ Freydel gasped, struggling to comprehend what he had seen, and afraid of being detected after speaking Baelthrom’s name aloud. ‘Take me back to now.’

  Forward movement came, but only briefly. He stood on rocks facing out to sea. Vertigo held him for a moment, and for some time after he did not know where he was. Ahead, the sea swirled as a mass of blue energy. Behind, stretched a jagged coastline of rocks being pounded by waves, high cliffs, and tiny sandy coves. He stared to his right where a small harbour and fishing village tucked deep into a cove away from the weather and waves.

  ‘This is not Celene, this is Frayon,’ he said, finally recognising Zeath, the most south-westerly village of the mainland. From Zeath, merchants travelled to and from the Sacred Isle to sell and buy wares. He looked to the horizon and could no longer see the once visible isle. Where is Celene? Cold dread made him shiver.

  He sat down on the rock and wiped the sweat from his face. His body trembled and he wished the sickness would go away. He had to return to the physical world, he was dying here. He forced his aching mind to think. They had taken Cirosa. Had she betrayed them and joined Baelthrom? Why else would the harpy give her a blood stone? Why she would betray them he could not fathom.

  He looked at the orb. He’d discovered a power within it that he had not thought possible. Time travel. At least in the astral planes he could travel to any time he wished with little consequence to himself, so it appeared. If he could time travel could he be safe from Baelthrom? Time travel was dangerous, a thing both desired by all wizards and feared in equal measure.

  Only his good friend the Master Wizard Grenahyme had ever claimed to have successfully time travelled. Freydel was sure his late friend had started going grey after that point. Grenahyme had admitted he’d unwillingly seen his own death, having no real control over where he travelled to. That unsavoury thought had put all other wizards off trying. But if Freydel did not travel in time now, he would not just see his own death - he would experience it.

  ‘So this is now,’ Freydel said grimly to the orb. ‘Celene is utterly gone,’ and my entire life’s work with it. But what was a life’s work in the face of imminent death? He cradled the orb in his lap.

  ‘If I die what will happen to you? Will you be lost to the world? Left in the astral planes waiting for Baelthrom to find you? That cannot be allowed to happen and you know it.’ He stared into the swirling blackness and spoke carefully.

  ‘You have your own will to protect yourself. Whatever the cost, take us to a place we can reach, where we are safe from Baelthrom. A place where I have a chance to return to the physical world.’ Or I shall soon die here.

  The orb pulsed darkly, and he felt himself being drawn into it. If he’d had anything less than a highly inquisitive mind he would have resisted, but this was the first time the orb had done anything of its own accord, with no power of his own. Then there came a fast backward moving motion that lasted for a long time.

  The place upon which Freydel stood was very different to the one he’d left. The air felt real as it filled his lungs, and everything was clearer and more solid. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. Had he left the astral planes somehow? Was he safe now? The thought excited him, but he had no way of knowing.

  It was warm like Celene, but arid like Atalanph, and there was a hot breeze blowing. He looked down. He was standing on a path made of crystal that shone white in the dark. It was night, but when he looked up at the stars he recognised none of the constellations or the two small white moons in the sky. He stared at those moons for a long time.

  Though it was night time there were human-like beings all around him, and this is where he struggled to comprehend what was happening. He stared at them open-mouthed. They were around two feet taller than he, slender, and with long skulls and faces that were aquiline in appearance. They had large almond shaped eyes, high cheekbones and small perfectly formed lips. They were completely hairless and the colour of their skin ranged from smooth white to pale gold.

  He stood there frozen in fear and awe. Would they attack him? Would they stop and speak to him? But the beings paid him no heed, and he couldn’t imagine them attacking anything. He began to relax, but at the same time worried he had not left the astral planes.

  Were it not for their hairlessness, height and colour of their skin, he would have sworn they were the Ancients, as he had seen them in the orb’s memory. He glanced down at the orb, it was a swirl of black and the darkest blue. One thing was for certain, he was not on Maioria anymore.

  The beings were all dressed in long robes of shimmering pearlescent material that he’d never seen before. It moved like fine satin only more sheer and floaty. Some of the beings spoke to each other as they walked, their voices soft and flowing, whilst most others gesticulated in graceful movements without uttering a word. He realised they were speaking telepathically - just as the Daluni spoke to animals, only this was far more advanced. They have telepathy. It is said that the Ancients had telepathy. As soon as he thought it a passing couple glanced in his direction, maybe even at him. He held his breath, but they did not stop and continued to walk past. Perhaps some of them can see me.

  They all appeared to be of a similar height, and he could not easily tell the difference between male and female. Some had the barest of hint of breasts, and maybe some faces were rounder and smoother, but beyond
that they were all similar, all beautiful and regal. They seemed to float as they walked, delicate and agile, and there was an air of peaceful calm and extreme intelligence about them.

  A group of three walked past him in telepathic communion. The being in the middle held up his or her hands and spoke a word. Freydel felt the barest tinkling of magical energy and a glittering golden box appeared above the being’s palm, intricate in design and totally flummoxing as to its purpose. The being took hold of the solid object, turned it around their six-fingered hands as the others looked on, and then with another word demanifested the gold box.

  Freydel stared. They can manifest and demanifest solid objects at will? These beings used magic that was far more advanced than anything he’d ever seen or heard of on Maioria. And yet he knew from the backward motion of his time travel that he had gone a long way back in time, not forwards. A pre-ancient race, but where in the cosmos am I?

  Not knowing what else to do, he followed the group of three. They seemed to be going where most of the other beings were going anyway. The crystal path led between sloping walls made of bricks twice the height of a man. He followed the wall up with his gaze until he reached the point towering far above him. A pyramid. The huge construction made him feel miniscule. He walked closer to the wall and noticed each brick was covered in symbols and beautiful text of flowing curving lines. A writing he had not seen before.

  He held the orb up. ‘Make sure you memorise all of this, I want to study it later,’ he said, but the orb gave no response. Even so he walked close to the wall and held the orb out, hoping it would record what it saw – just as he’d managed to record the contents of his books and spells in the past for easy retrieval whilst he was away from his study.

  The crystal path was getting busier. The graceful beings all talked silently amongst themselves, so the only sound was the soft steps of their bare six-toed feet, and the swishing of their fine robes. They appeared to be worried or concerned about something from the solemn look on many of their faces. Everybody was now moving in the same direction and Freydel had nothing to do and no where else to go but follow them.

  They rounded a corner and came into a vast open plateau made of the same white crystal as the path. Ahead there stood not just one huge pyramid, but several surrounding the plateau. Their majestic glistening peaks were quite a sight in the star-filled night sky, and there were several more pyramids beyond them. He was awestruck as he tried to comprehend the amount of wealth and effort put into creating this incredible place. They must have truly adept wizards to move all these beautiful stones. But when he looked closer at the beings, they didn’t appear to act wealthy, or adorn themselves with distinctive fine clothes, jewellery or crowns. Everyone was dressed the same, walked and talked the same, and they all seemed of equal status.

  Suddenly the tip of the largest pyramid to which they were headed began to glow. Everyone turned to look up at it, their faces half-smiling, half-something-else. Freydel tried to pinpoint the emotion, but all he could come close to was worry, a shared underlying concern mirrored on all of their faces.

  They entered a relatively small arched entrance, about a yard and a half wide, to the otherwise huge pyramid, and came into a wide long hallway. Inside they were surrounded by soft aquamarine light coming from the crystal walls, floor and ceiling. The Ancients had crystal temples, but nothing like this have I seen in the orb’s memory . . .

  The beings were illuminated, making them even more beautiful and otherworldly. Every now and then one of them would glance in his direction, look directly at him, and then turn respectfully away. Every time they did that his heart began to race, but no one ever approached him. Perhaps some can see me. If I am in the astral planes and they can speak telepathically, who knows what they can see and sense. However, he felt no threat come from them, only a serene peace. Still, he kept himself physically as far away from them as he could, and hugged the crystal wall. He didn’t fancy anyone walking straight through him, as if he were a ghost. The thought chilled him to the bone.

  They walked the long crystal hallway and came to a huge open area within the pyramid. It was filled with beings sitting or standing on steps that also served as crystal seats. It looked like one of those amphitheatres they had on Lans Himay, except the central arena area was tiny. Only a handful of beings could stand there at the same time, and it was clearly not for games or sport.

  Suddenly the beings crowding the theatre became still, and Freydel sensed the atmosphere grow silent, as if he had subconsciously been hearing all their telepathic voices and now they had stopped talking. They all began to sit down and Freydel followed suit. From amongst the crowd an extremely tall being walked towards the lowest middle point of the theatre. His dark blue robes shimmered as they swished, the colour of them instantly setting him apart from the others. Freydel felt the orb pulse hot against his thigh.

  The being came to a stop in the centre, and turned to look at those assembled around him. His skin shone like burnished gold, and his dark blue eyes gleamed in the crystal light. Freydel felt it instantly, the same feeling he felt when meeting a powerful magic wielder, only this one felt more powerful than anyone he had ever met. The Flow moved strongly around him, ready for his command. The being wore an amulet that glinted in the light, a blue stone so dark it almost seemed black.

  Freydel gasped. Several faces turned in his direction, including the being standing in the centre, but he only half-noticed, all his attention was fixed on that horribly familiar amulet. It is the same as Baelthrom’s blood stone amulets. Save that this stone was dark blue and not blood red, and the metal surrounding it was silver, not black gold. But otherwise the design was exactly the same. The same size, the same smooth oval cut of the stone, the same style of chain, and the same design of the amulet encasing it.

  ‘That is uncanny,’ he breathed, suddenly feeling afraid. More faces looked in his direction. He looked into the violet eyes of the being sitting next to him and held his breath. The being’s smile reassured and calmed, and he turned back to the dark-robed figure. This only served to unnerve Freydel even more. They could see him, but why did they not talk to him? Maybe I am but a ghost to them. Perhaps they deeply respected non-physical, peaceful visitors.

  Freydel also turned back to the dark-robed figure, and found dark eyes watching him. For a moment he felt a probing of his mind. He pulled his energy closer, and the probing mind seemed to slip from him, as if no longer able to detect his presence. Still, the being’s eyes looked in Freydel’s direction and he sensed darkness there which was absent in the other beings he’d so far seen.

  The dark-robed being finally dropped his gaze and looked down at the crystal floor. He spoke words that Freydel did not understand in a deep voice and held his hand out palm down. Freydel felt strong pure magic move, and beneath the being’s palm a crystal about a foot in diameter began to rise from the floor, stopping its ascent only when it reached his hand. He let his hand drop and stared at the crystal silently for a few moments.

  He began to speak loudly for all to hear. Though the spoken words Freydel did not understand, the silent telepathic words that were put directly into his brain he did. He had never experienced anything quite like it.

  ‘We have had communion with the Yurgha, and once again they urgently request our assistance.’

  The crowd moved restlessly. Many shook their heads and frowned in consternation. Another being spoke aloud from the other side of the theatre. The voice sounded feminine and somehow carried clearly. Freydel wondered if the room had been specially constructed to carry sound, much like the Ancient’s legendary music halls had been. The one who spoke stood up, and Freydel’s eyes rested on a silvery-white skinned slender being.

  ‘We know very well that the Yurgha require aid, they always will if they continue their dark ways and abominable experiments. But we also know they will trick us, they always have in the past. The Yurgha can never be trusted. Over the centuries we have lost thousands of lives trying t
o assist them, but always they turn back to their darkness.’

  Agreeing nods spread across the crowd. The dark-robed being’s face remained unreadable as he spoke. ‘What if it were us that had been attacked by those beyond the light? What if we were the ones infected with the sickness of revenge, competition and greed? How would we feel if no one came to our aid and, worse, turned away from our plight? Is that the way of the One Source? To leave others to fall into darkness? No, it is not, and well we all know it.’ He frowned as he spoke - was it anger at the crowd or something else that disturbed him? Freydel could not tell, but the being seemed deeply troubled.

  ‘We have already helped them so much, we do not trust their intentions.’ A deeper male voice spoke from nearby. ‘Even now they have doubt and worry burning in our minds, particularly yours, and you have helped them the most. We can see already how they have affected you, though you selflessly try to help them. They must be quarantined and helped from afar once we know how to help them.’

  ‘Time is running out,’ the dark-robed being said loudly, hushing all murmurs. Worry creased the foreheads of all those surrounding Freydel. ‘The power of the sun is at its strongest, and our planet is at its energetic peak. Combined with the power of the crystal pyramids, much can be achieved. Our window of opportunity is only a few sunrises. I myself will go to them, alone if I have to, as I’ve said before.’

  ‘They are pushing too hard. It must be the entire council’s decision to decide how we will help them, if indeed we shall at all,’ a commanding voice said from behind Freydel. ‘Ayeth, you have already poured much of your heart and your spirit into helping the Yurgha. With all your powers and efforts we worry that we shall lose you too to their infected minds. Then we all shall be in danger of falling, just as the Yurgha have fallen. Do not risk yourself and our entire race for the saving of another. We will not risk our own race falling from the light. There must be another way.’