by David Wind
The wavering image of Ailish nodded. “Why would I not? I am a woman of power. It was my duty to ensure Nevaeh lived on, and to save my children. Did not you and your complement come, as the Eight foretold, and have I not come out as well… so to say?” She smiled gently at Areenna.
“The stories I have been told of you… How you fought the invasions, helped stop the Dark Ones from overtaking us, those were true?”
“They were. It was not myself alone, but all the women of power who were with me. Our powers were not as strong as are women’s now, if what I see within you holds true with others.”
“Hold true, yes.” She drew in a shaky breath. “You sacrificed yourself to wait for me,” Areenna said.
“All I did was but what my ancestors did for the hundreds of years before my birth, when women first discovered their powers—it was the beginning of magic in Nevaeh. My maternal ancestor was the first woman to learn how to use her ability and she taught others. She was the first woman called to the Island.
So long ago.
Areenna turned to the second crystal container. “He too no longer lives, only his memories?”
Ailish met and held Areenna’s eyes for several long moments before saying, “No. Jalil Ben Afzal lives.”
CHAPTER 31
Trapped within the deepest recesses of his mind, Mikaal struggled to find himself, but could not. Bogged down and held hostage within a strange cocoon-like prison, he was unaware of anything other than the sucking black void within which he was suspended. He had no physical sensations: he knew not that he lay upon the cold ground.
His last memory was of being overwhelmed, of body upon body piling atop him until he could not breathe. With the loss of his breath came darkness and within the darkness, a terrible cold murky grip fenced in his mind. Trapped by the unrelenting fog, he pushed his senses hard and found… nothing.
He tried to move his legs but could not feel them. He called out to Areenna, but no sound issued, nor could he send her any thought. He stopped fighting and took stock of himself.
He suddenly remembered the Dark Master. No sooner had the thought birthed than he was aware of a stealthy probing within the shadows of his mind. Fingers of thoughts so alien his body convulsed and twisted in agony, probed his mind, yet he was aware only of the inky horror seeking to infiltrate and control him, not the pain racing through his nerves and muscles.
Anchoring himself with the knowledge of who he was and the abilities granted to him, he raised a block, fighting the relentless tendrils seeking a pathway to control his mind and ultimately control him. He pushed at the fog while he struggled to erect the block.
An instant later, the tendrils were gone and he lost consciousness.
<><><>
The sky was turning from dark gray to a lighter shade when Roth stopped the Nevaens a thousand yards from the massed ghazi soldiers. His experienced eyes told him there were, as Enaid had said earlier, more than a five hundred of the creatures—he would not call them men.
He signaled Noslen to him. “Divide our fighters into three. We strike with a three-prong attack to separate them. You are with me. We will lead the center. Have the two other Sixes lead from the flanks.”
Noslen dipped his head slightly. “As you command.” Moving quickly, Noslen went to the three Six groups and gave them Roth’s instructions and battle plans.
The next minutes found the Nevaen troops shifting to the positions Roth had ordered. Forming into three columns of warriors, and with Noslen and Enaid to his left, Ilsraeth and Timon to his right, Roth gave the command.
The columns moved forward, slowly at first, and as they neared the enemy, changed to a slow run. Ahead of them, in the closing distance, the ghazis roared their battle cries and charged the oncoming Nevaens.
When the two armies met and the clash of metal rang loudly, Laira, Akassia, and Trebor trailed behind the right flank. The moment the armies met, Laira and Akassia joined the other women to protect their vastly outnumbered force.
The fighting was fierce, no quarter asked, none given. Blade met blade, and as lances penetrated armor, the forces of Nevaeh moved relentlessly forward, stepping over the bodies of the fallen. The gray sky darkened above the battlefield, turning the rocky ground into shiny, blood-soaked black pools.
<><><>
On a small and level ridge above the battle, the Master watched the clash of the two forces while his followers prepared the camp and placed Mikaal within a tent. A few hundred feet below, between him and the fighting, a hundred of his ghazi waited for any who might get past his larger force.
Turning from the battle, the Master walked to where Mikaal lay and motioned to one of his slaves. The ghazi came to him quickly, removing the pack he carried. The Master searched through it and found what he sought. Although he had placed a powerful block around Mikaal, he found the power of the young male strong enough to break through should he rise to full consciousness—an event he could not permit. He needed Mikaal under his absolute control. He could not claim the staff without Mikaal. He needed his concentration uncluttered, for he had to learn how this male had gained his powers. After that, the boy would have to die—no males with powers other than the Eight Masters could live.
He removed a glass vial, pulled the stopper, and poured two drops of the potion into Mikaal’s mouth. He waited a full minute for it to take affect and when it did, the Master released the block, knowing his prisoner’s mind would remain locked until he decided it was time.
He returned to the rock he had been on minutes before and projected himself toward the battle, where he saw his ghazi army cut by two-thirds. Of the Nevaen army, only fifty or so were dead.
He studied the scene. The front line of the Nevaens was solid. Behind the first line were the women, each utilizing their abilities to fight the opposing force while the front line used sword and lance. He stretched his arms forward and wide, his fingers pointing not at the armored soldiers but at the women on each end. He released twin spheres of dark power. The two women fell instantly, their bodies ripped by spasms until they lay unmoving.
When the women of power went to the aid of the two, he sent a command to his followers to withdraw quickly. The front line of his forces stopped, turned, and raced away. When there was distance between the two forces, he sent a sheet of flames across the ground to separate them. At the same time, he ordered what was left of his army to join the other ghazi above the foothills.
<><><>
The battle had moved swiftly in their favor. The left and right flanks had converged, driving the ghazi between them, forcing them closer together and giving them less room to maneuver. Enaid, standing in the center of the line of women, projected her abilities at the enemy’s front line. Using stones the size of a fist, she battered the armored filth who fought the warriors of Nevaeh. Ahead, Roth stood with Noslen and Timon, their swords never stopping as each fought two or three of the malformed semi-human creatures at a time.
At the edge of Enaid’s mind, came the cries of two women struck so severely they died within seconds. Instinctively, she reached her hands to the two women next to her. Shields!
Without further thought, the three women combined their powers and raised a shield around themselves and the Nevaens. “Hold!” she cried aloud. Ahead of her, Roth froze and turned to look at her. At the same instant, the ghazi turned and retreated and a wall of fire flared between the two lines of warriors.
Roth held his sword high and shouted the command to reform their ranks. The cry echoed up and down the lines of armored men and women. The soldiers of Nevaeh stopped moving and waited for the next command. Roth left the line and went to Enaid.
“What happened?”
“The Master. We must regroup. He sees the battle going badly and gathers his forces to him. He has more planned. There is something else I sense, something about… Mikaal,” she said, her son’s name a mere whisper coming from her lips.
“What?”
Enaid shook her head as she t
ried to sense her son but found only emptiness. “I know not, but there is… darkness and he is in grave danger.” She reached out and grabbed Roth’s arm, her fingernails digging deep into his muscles. “The Master has Mikaal.”
Behind them, in the sudden lull, Ilsraeth ran to where one of the women lay, but her ministrations were of no use. She returned to Enaid and shook her head. “Dead. He killed them both.”
Enaid released Roth’s arm. “Have two of the strongest women build a shield. That is their only duty. The shield must hold. Send them to the rear for protection. We cannot afford to lose another woman of power.”
Ilsraeth went to the other women. When she was gone, Enaid turned to her husband. “We must set aside our concern. There is more going on here than a simple battle. The Dark One… the Master can disappear from us at any time, yet he chooses to stand and fight. There is a reason he recalled his forces.” She paused in thought. “He is above the foothills, on the mountain. He has set them to block our way so we cannot free Mikaal.” She paused, her eyes widening. “Areenna… Where is she? What has happened to her?”
Staring into the haunted eyes of his wife, Roth knew what he must do. He signaled Noslen to him.
When the captain of the Sixes reached him, Roth said, “I have a request, which you can accept or decline. There is no command.”
Noslen’s brows furrowed, his eyes searched Roth’s face. “My Lord?”
“The Dark Master has captured Mikaal. He holds him in a place, halfway to the peak. I need you and your men to get to him. Will you consider this?”
Noslen’s brows furrowed even deeper. His eyes questioned further. “My Lord… Solomon, there is no choice in this. How could you think I—”
Roth cut him off. “—to send you into the mouth of such danger is something I cannot command.”
“Had I known, I would already be there.”
<><><>
“He still lives?” Areenna echoed.
“He has waited for you and your complement. Only the two of you, when joined with the staff can release him and unlock the full power within the staff.” Ailish paused before silently saying, only then can you stop this war of annihilation. You must find Mikaal and bring him back here.
Everything clarified for Areenna. With the sharpness of a finely honed blade, the understanding of what must happen next pierced her mind. She connected with Gaalrie, who was halfway down the mountain. The treygone, flying over a small camp, lifted higher and circled.
Areenna saw a dozen of the dark soldiers; some standing and others seated around a tent but could not see what was inside. She knew, intuitively, Mikaal was there. I have found him, she told Ailish.
Turning, she took three steps when Ailish said, “The staff must stay. It is too dangerous to take with you. Without Mikaal, the staff is not strong enough to stop the Master. No, if the Master gains possession of it… No” she repeated, “it is too dangerous.”
Areenna moved to where Ailish’s vision shimmered, and when she was between the two floating crystal containers, she lifted the staff and released it. It did not fall; rather, it rose until it was once again floating between the crystals.
Be strong, granddaughter, Ailish said and vanished.
Areenna stared at the space where Ailish had been. She had so much she had wanted to ask and wondered if Ailish would appear to her again or if she was gone forever. She shook away the sad thought and focused on her task.
Five minutes later and dressed in full armor, the bow and quiver secured on her back, she stepped outside. She took three long strides and saw Charka raise his head. His eyes locked on her and she froze. Her mind went blank. Then, as if every bone in her body turned to water, she fell to her knees and gave an anguished cry.
How can I do this alone? How can I face a Dark Master and steal back the one person who has become my world? How can I protect him… protect Nevaeh? The questions spewed forth like lava from a volcano. Tears overflowed her eyes until anger took charge; a cold red anger directed solely at herself. With it, self-loathing at her weakness boiled dangerously.
She tried to fight the strong emotions, wrapping her arms about her and bobbing back and forth on the ground, torn apart by her inner struggle. Then, a strange white mist surrounded her, settling around her like a second skin. It was warm and gentle and her tears stopped as quickly as they had started.
You do what you must, came an unfamiliar mind thought that she knew instinctively was coming from the Master within the crystal. You have the strength of all Nevaeh. Contained within you is the power of all the women of Nevaeh. You are Areenna, Daughter of Inaria who was the daughter of Alegna who was the Daughter of Ennazus—daughter are you of all the descendants of Ailish. You cannot and will not fail unless you so choose. Know, Areenna, whatever path you walk, be it foreseen or not, it will be the correct choice for you. I am at peace with whatever be your decision.
Something warm pushed against her head and brought her back to the world. She opened her eyes to find Mikaal’s aoutem staring down at her. She lifted herself off the ground, shook her head and went back into the cavern.
She strode directly to the crystal box holding the Master and stared deep into the crystal. How could you know I would come? She turned to the other crystal box. Naked, suspended in the center, Ailish floated within the shimmering mist of the crystal. Areenna pressed her face to it, as if she were trying to get inside the box.
As she concentrated, the waviness of the crystal cleared, and now she was staring at Ailish’s body. Her eyes traced her ancestor, and her breath caught. On the top curve of her shoulder, was the circular mark with the star in the center—her birthmark, Neleh's birthmark, Sirod's birthmark and her mother's as well.
She knew everything Ailish had told her was true. She was Ailish’s many times removed granddaughter. She understood, too, there was but a single path open to her: no matter what ‘they’ choose for her, she could not do what was expected—not while Mikaal lay prisoner to the Dark Master.
Drawing herself straight, she walked outside only to find Charka blocking her path. He lowered his large head and pressed his snout to her forehead. There was no mistaking the kraal’s emotions.
She ran her hand along the side of his head. Yes Charka, we go to free him. She told him, knowing anything less would cause the aoutem pain; this separation was hard for the kraal.
The large aoutem sidestepped and Areenna walked forward; Charka followed behind. When they reached the path down the western slope, Areenna called to Gaalrie, telling her they were coming.
<><><>
Roth scanned the sky. The gray was turning dark and night would be on them again. They were at the base of the mountain, unable to go up. They had tried three different times and each time the ghazis above them showered the Nevaens with arrows, killing some and wounding others.
Finally, Roth called an end to their attempts and gathered the remnants of his people together with orders to eat and rest. While his people followed his instructions, he strode about the outer edges of their camp unable to keep his eyes from the heights. “Noslen’s Six team is in place near the ridge,” Enaid said from behind him. “The woman you sent with them has relayed the message.”
“They will be ready when you are close. They will let no harm come to Mikaal,” she told him. “You cannot doubt this.”
He shook his head. “It is not doubt; it is fear. Fear that he will kill Mikaal rather than allow rescue.”
She cupped the side of his head with her hand and stroked his skin gently. “This cannot be what he plans. Mikaal is different from anyone else. He controls magic as they do. He is a great danger to them, but they will want to know how such is possible. No, they will not kill him… not until they learn everything about him.”
He started to speak, but Enaid cut him off. “Do not forget Areenna is there, somewhere. Akassia, Laira, and Trebor as well. Solomon, Areenna will never willingly let anything happen to Mikaal. They are one person in many ways, and in the future
, they will become more so. You know it already; you have seen the evidence with your own eyes.
“What are you saying?”
She smiled. “What did you tell me, years ago in Morvene?”
He took in the smooth lines of her face, the gentle expression within her eyes and joined her with his own smile. “It was the morning of the day after I had arrived in Morvene. I was leaving the inn, and going to the main keep, when I saw you walking toward me on the street. I watched every step you took and knew I would never again look at another woman.”
“And you stepped in front of me and said those exact words.”
“I did. Of course I had no idea who you were.”
Enaid laughed. “But my brother did so explain.”
“With the tip of his knife at my throat.”
Enaid laughed. “Which you took from him, spun him around, and slammed him to the ground, his knife at his own throat.”
“And I woke up later lying on a bed in your father’s keep with him ranting on about exiling me.”
“It was the least I could do for my future husband, making you comfortable until I could convince my parents you meant neither me nor my brother harm,” she said lightly.
Roth’s brows furrowed as he shook his head. “They’re to become—”
“Their feelings are silent for now, they have no choice. I can tell you, absolutely, Mikaal feels toward Areenna as you did and do toward me. And Areenna… doubt her not, My Lord.”
Roth exhaled slowly. More of the night’s darkness had fallen while they’d talked and he could now see fires rising in the high distance, as the Master and his ghazis settled in for the night.
“Let us call council,” he said.
Ten minutes later, Roth sat in the center of a small circle comprised of Enaid, Ilsraeth, Timon, and four captains. He laid out his plans and listened to the various comments, which he encouraged. When everyone finished speaking, Roth replayed the plan, this time incorporating several of the suggestions.
