by Toni Cox
As Durinn sat down again, the hall buzzed with voices like a beehive. Kyreon banged his staff on the flagstones to call for order. The crowed settled, but some were still whispering with their neighbours as Kyreon started to speak.
“Aye, we have all suffered losses and now, after listening to Jadae’s and Cinaed’s accounts, I must admit that our own dead were found in very similar circumstances.”
Kyreon paused for a moment and looked around at the assembly before he continued.
“However, I think the evidence is not strong enough to accuse another race of these atrocities. We have not had dealings with Vampyres for centuries, and we have never been enemies. Why should they suddenly attack us? The threat might come from within our own and I suggest that we send out messengers to all the cities who have not been able to attend, to warn them of the attacks and to learn if they have had any disturbances as well. We must remain vigilant. Parties leaving the cities should go out in groups and be armed. Night travel should be kept to a minimum. I also think we should exchange messenger birds, for when we need to relay messages more swiftly. Does anyone have any other suggestions at this time?” Kyreon looked around at the assembled.
Jadae rose and spoke. “When we return to Shadow Hall, we will dispatch messengers to transport some pigeons to Braérn, Thala Yll and Alea Yll. Tarron Heights and Rathaés already hold some of our birds. We can also take with us birds from Braérn when we go back, which will save you having to send a messenger to us and Tarron Heights. I believe we should also keep a record of not only the frequency of attacks, but also the locations. For now, they seem to be located within Grildor, but it might be wise to notify our neighbouring countries as well. If it is indeed a Vampyre attack, I must assume they are coming through Greystone. Shadow Hall lies closest to the Gate, thus we will monitor it for activity.”
Kyreon nodded. “Yes, that sounds like a prudent idea. We will supply you with ten birds to take back with you. If you do notice any activity around Greystone, you can notify us immediately. I will also send messengers to the cities on Crook Island and those beyond Nithril Deep. Cinaed, will you send messengers to Rathaés? They can spread the word down south, towards the Rain Forests. Skylor and Durinn can send messengers to the West and the far North.”
The meeting carried on until the sun sank behind the mountains in the distance. Maia soon tired of the details regarding the number of birds each city would send, the frequency of messages, the type of information to be deemed important or the secrecy with which they were to be sent. She sat staring at the ring on Kanarel’s right hand as he leant on the railing in front of him, listening to the current speaker. The ring seemed to be made out of a type of stone, rather than metal, and was decorated with runes she was not familiar with. Only when Jaik nudged her, did she realise that the meeting had finally come to an end.
She yawned. “I am so glad this is over, I could fall asleep on my feet.”
Jaik smiled at her and took her arm to lead her out of the hall. Kanarel said his good-byes, but was thankfully too distracted to give Maia too much attention.
Once they were out in the open and walked down the lantern lit lane to the guesthouse, Jaik said, “We will meet again tomorrow, so you will have to endure another afternoon in Kanarel’s company. We will leave the following morning, if everything goes well.”
Maia and Jaik entered the dining room of the guesthouse to have their supper. They had taken their seats and their food had just arrived when Burindor entered through the back door, looking dishevelled. As he entered, nausea washed over Maia and she watched him approach with trepidation.
“My Lady, I am sorry to interrupt your supper, but we are in need of your help.”
“Show me,” she said to the man, who was visibly shaken.
Burindor bowed and then hastened across the dining room towards the back door. Maia and Jaik followed close behind, their supper forgotten. He led them across the street, past two houses, and then down a narrow lane that led to Burindor’s own home, a stately two storey building.
As they climbed the steps to the first storey, Maia held her breath, afraid she might throw up. She leaned against the door frame for a moment as Burindor went into the interior of the darkened room. A wave of agony assaulted her and she became aware of the nature of Burindor’s problem.
“Jaik, stay here. I won’t need you for this.”
Jaik nodded his assent and took his place in front of the door. He did not like to let her do this by herself, as he knew the effects it had on her, but this was her domain, and she would not let him interfere. He also knew the only thing that would make her feel better, was to heal and relieve the person of the pain he or she was in.
Maia entered the room. Only two crystal lanterns on the wall above the bed and one candle by the window illuminated the room, but Maia did not need to see to know the amount of blood the woman on the bed had lost. The room reeked of it. A midwife sat on the bed, dabbing at the woman’s brow with a damp cloth.
Burindor was kneeling on the floor, his wife’s limp hand in his. Pleadingly he looked up at Maia. “She went into labour this morning. At first, everything seemed to be going well, but then she started to haemorrhage and now she is so weak, she won’t even recognise us. Please, help her. And the child, if you can.”
Maia put a hand on his shoulder and let a small amount of energy flow out of her to reassure him. She watched as the tension went out of him and he sighed in relief.
To the midwife she said, “Boil more water and take these soiled sheets away. Also open the windows to let fresh air in.”
The midwife rose from the bed, curtsied and hurried to do as bid.
Maia turned back to Burindor. “When did she start to bleed like this?”
“Not long ago, maybe since the moons rose.”
Maia nodded, and sat next to the woman on the bed. She had a small, narrow frame, her swollen stomach a grotesque lump dominating her mid-section. Gently, Maia put her hands on either side of the woman’s distended abdomen.
“What is her name?”
“Selest.”
Maia nodded. She closed her eyes and let her energy link her to the woman. Her Eläm was weak. At first, she only felt pain; great, wrecking waves of it. She was glad the woman had fainted with loss of blood and did not have to feel it any longer. Then, slowly, she moved past the pain. The woman’s heart fluttered like bird with a broken wing. Her pulse was weak and irregular. She felt the torn muscles, the ripped membranes and the amount of blood and amniotic fluid in Selest’s stomach cavity. She shuddered as she beheld the amount of damage done and wondered how it had gotten to this stage. No healer would be able to heal this.
Maia pressed on, feeling through the mess of flesh and blood until finally she found a second heartbeat. It was small and faint, but it was there.
“The baby is breach,” she said to Burindor, without breaking the stream of energy she fed the woman and child. “The placenta is broken and she has massive internal bleeding. But, the baby is alive. For now. I will try to turn it and deliver it. Be ready.”
The midwife had removed the soiled sheets and now handed Burindor a receiving blanket. He was pale.
Closing her eyes again, Maia concentrated on the baby; it did not have much time left. In her mind, she felt its tiny hands and feet, checked its organs, its brain and its oxygen-starved lungs. Slowly, she extended her energy and began to turn the baby. Selest moaned, but otherwise made no move. Sweat dripped off Maia’s face, but she ignored it. When the baby was turned and finally faced the right way, she asked the midwife to take her position. Agonisingly slowly, she encouraged the baby down the birth canal, all the while feeding it the energy to live just a little longer.
With the muscles torn and the woman fainted, there was no help from her. She could not push. Selest moaned again as the baby’s head broke through. Then, surprisingly quickly, the rest of the tiny body followed. The midwife took it, handing it to Burindor. He stared at the little person in wonde
r as she took her first breath and then wailed softly, still weak from her ordeal.
Maia turned back to the woman. More blood was gushing out of her with bits of broken placenta. Concentrating, Maia first stilled the bleeding and then mentally reached into the woman and started to empty her of the afterbirth and blood and fluid in her stomach cavity. The midwife fluttered about her removing the gore as it came out until there was no more. Then Maia put her mind to undoing the damage and healing the broken and torn flesh and muscles, knitting torn fibres back together and sealing veins. At the same time she encouraged the blood cells to multiply, replenishing lost blood.
By the time she was finished, Maia was too weak to stand. The midwife helped her to a chair and brought her a cup of tea.
“Thank you,” she said to the midwife, “but don’t worry about me. Go wash her, then prepare linden tea for when she wakes, but do not make it too strong.”
The midwife curtsied again and then left her. Burindor sat on the bed beside his wife, holding his daughter in his arms. He nodded at Maia, deepest gratitude in his eyes.
“We will call her Selena. Thank you, My Lady. We are forever in your debt.”
She was standing in a grove of trees. Rays of sunlight filtered through the leaves, making patterns on the forest floor. The summer air was hazy with pollen and she needed to squint to see the details of the trees in front of her. She had seen a pair of tree squirrels and was following them as they cavorted through the branches. She laughed at their antics and, at the sound of her voice, they chattered noisily and then darted away into the underbrush.
Sad that they were gone, she turned to go home. As she looked around, she found her way blocked by bushes and trees. Turning, she scanned her surroundings, searching for a way. She could find no path. It was as if the trees around her had moved closer together, circling her, cutting her off her. Her skin prickled. Suddenly, the forest seemed oppressive and malignant. She felt like she was being watched. The hairs on the back of her neck started to tingle and stand up. A cold shiver ran down her back. As she crouched into a defensive position, she thought that this situation felt awfully familiar. She swung around, looking for the eyes she felt on her, but could not see them.
The feeling was strange, she felt naked and exposed, yet inexplicably drawn to whatever was watching her. She turned some more, completing the circle and there, right in front of her looking through the foliage, was a pair of pitch black eyes. She held her breath. She couldn’t run. Her legs were rooted on the spot, and her eyes drawn to the eyes, unable to look away. The eyes seemed to look right into her, seeking not just her physical form, but her inner self. She almost felt violated, yet oddly aroused at the same time.
She shook her head. What was she thinking, this didn’t make any sense. Her body didn’t listen. She had this tight feeling in her stomach, moving down to her loins. A shudder went through her entire body. She wanted the eyes to look at her. They seemed to explore every part of her; undressing and caressing her. She moaned lightly, closing her eyes for a moment.
When she opened them again, she saw the eyes move. Death’s great, black wolf shape moved out of the shadows, stalking towards her. His eyes never broke contact. Her heart froze. Fear gripped her then. The arousal wiped out in an instant. He was bigger than she remembered. His shoulders at the height of a horse and his large head hanging low, snarling. She started to sweat and silently screamed at herself to move her legs, to run away. Her legs did not obey her.
She panicked and screamed, just as the great, black wolf reared up on his hind legs. He put a hand on her shoulder and shook it.
“Maia, Maia, wake up, you’re dreaming. Maia, wake up!”
She opened her eyes. Jaik was standing over her, still gently shaking her shoulder.
“Are you all right? You were calling out in your sleep.”
She sat up and cleared her throat, but her voice was hoarse when she answered him. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a bad dream. I’ll be all right now.”
She shook her head, to clear the memory of the dream. What did it mean? Why would Death be coming for her? Was it because she had cheated him out of the lives of Selest and Selena last night? She shook her head. That was not how it worked. She was Life and she did what she was borne to do. Death was death, and he was just a Prime Elemental, the same as her. Because it happened so rarely that two Prime Elementals lived in the same life time, Silas had not taught her much about it. Were they supposed to fight each other to decide who was supposed to live and who was supposed to die?
With a sigh she shook the thought off. She would speak to Silas about it when they got back. There was no point in worrying about it now.
“What time is it?”
“It is morning. The sun is just coming up. Get dressed, I’ll go down and get us some tea. It’ll calm you down. Are you sure you’re fine?”
When Maia nodded, Jaik smiled reassuringly at her, then went to the door and left. Maia swung her legs out of her bed and went over to the chair to grab her clothes. She realised that, indeed, there was moisture between her legs and felt the memory of those eyes looking at her again. Now angry with herself, she went to wash before putting on her clothes.
The whole day she couldn’t concentrate. She ate little for breakfast and heard little of what Jaik said to her. They went to the stables to check on the horses, but not even Fire could get her out of her thoughtful mood. The meeting in the Elder Hall went by in a blur and she could not remember anything that was discussed or Kanarel’s attention. Her thoughts kept returning to the man in the courtyard and the black wolf stalking her.
She did not join the others for the evening meal, but sat on the balcony of their room until Jaik came up to bed. He was worried about her, but she shrugged him off and went straight to bed. She slept dreamless that night, and was glad for it.
“We are meeting again this morning, but just to finalise things. You do not have to come, if you are not feeling well.” Jaik filled Maia’s cup with the steaming tea he had acquired from the kitchen. “Why don’t you spend the day with Siya; maybe it will cheer you up.”
“Yes, I would like that, thank you, Jaik.”
Maia smiled at him, but he knew it was a fake. Although she had not confided in him, he knew that whatever bothered her was serious. He thought about Aaron and wondered if the problem really was with him. Something else was going on that he was unaware of.
Once they had eaten a quick breakfast in their room, they left together and he took Maia to the house of Siya’s parents. The house was on a prominent street of the city, and it was easy to see that Siya’s parents belonged to the nobility of Braérn. It was a sprawling mansion that took up most of the city block. Tall, stained-glass windows dominated the front facade and the large double entrance door was richly carved with ornate designs depicting the lake, fish and flowers.
One of the Servers admitted them and led them through the house and on into the solarium. The almost round pavilion was connected to the house by only a small stretch of wall; the rest was glass from floor to ceiling. Even the roof was made of glass, supported by an intricate ivory lattice. The room was filled with plants, some potted, others planted in the bed in the centre of the room. Creepers clung to the ivory lattice all around, creating dappled shadows on the floor. The myriad of flowering plants imbued the room with a sweet scent. A single bench hugged the glass wall, strewn with pillows and blankets.
Siya rose as they entered and Jaik introduced her to his sister. He had managed to get word to her this morning and he now cast a significant glance at her before he left his sister in her care. Siya nodded at him reassuringly.
Jaik walked with a heavy heart towards the Elder Hall. He was in no mood to sit through yet another meeting. His sister’s state of mind troubled him. Something was obviously wrong. Her mumbling had woken him this morning and he had hesitated for just a fraction of a moment before waking her. She had talked about death in her sleep and how she had wanted it to take her.
Chapter 8
“I don’t understand,” said Jasmin. “Why are the animals on each planet almost the same, but the people are different?”
“Let me tell you the story of the Allgod and how he created the universe we now live in. It is usually taught to our children during their history classes.”
Silas took a sip of water and then cleared his throat. His steel grey eyes narrowed theatrically as he began.
“In the beginning, there was nothing, just infinite blackness. A loneliness prevailed that was unbelievably difficult to bear. So the Allgod created the suns and the stars and other heavenly bodies that now populate our universe. In his infinite wisdom, the Allgod created eleven Life Planets throughout the universe, all of almost identical mass and composition. He called the planets Agoria, Brath, Earth, Melixa, Elveron, Pud, Drodon, Karakrr, Naylera, Pegaron and Magrador. These he populated with a diversity of plant and animal life to please him. In the beginning, the Allgod took a hand in the evolution and development of all living creatures, making them similar on every planet. Only much later, did he allow the creatures to evolve as they chose, thus creating small differences between each species on the planets.
“Still, the Allgod was lonely. To combat his loneliness, he created creatures with enough intelligence to converse with him. He created a distinct race for every planet, each with distinguishing features. He called them The People. This gave him much joy. But The People were isolated from each other on their planets, thus he linked the eleven planets with The Channel through which the wisest of the people could keep in contact with each other, to learn from each other’s experiences and share knowledge. For a time, all was well and each planet prospered and evolved and the Allgod was glad.
“After a while, it came to light that not all The People he had created developed equally. In some, emotions such as hate, greed and animosity overruled the gentler, nobler sentiments and emotions. These people turned on each other, and slowly destroyed the planets he had created for them. One of the planets was worst affected by this and was soon completely destroyed. This displeased the Allgod greatly and he was saddened. He saw that these traits were a natural development of The People and he feared that the other planets would soon decline as the other had. He then turned away from all The People, leaving them to fend for themselves with only The Mother to guide them. He never returned to converse with The People.
