Destiny

by Fiona McIntosh

  Orlac noticed that Pelyss was scared of the wolf. He pondered this as he spied again the majestic falcon which was always close by. He dragged his mind back, searching for any clues as to why the pup would be scared. It was obvious this was no ordinary wolf. He knew if he considered it for long enough, it would come to him.

  What are we waiting for? hissed his uncle.

  Quiet! he roared. Let me think!

  And he was right. It did come to him. Solyana, the Third. She had been a magical beast who had taken many forms over the centuries. He recalled a silver horse and later a silver-flecked bear. And now a wolf. The young dog would not like another beast as magically endowed as Solyana. Their senses would be familiar to each other. That would explain the puppy’s obvious reluctance to go near her.

  So Cloot was the falcon. When and why that had happened, he could only wonder, remembering the not-so-comely features of the man of Rork’yel.

  His thoughts ranged further. The Ten. They were no match for him before and they would be no match for him now. So why did they think they could overpower him? He remembered Rubyn’s words. He searched through the eyes of the animal and saw the young man. He sat nearby to the soldier he had once known as Cyruson and yet Rubyn seemed to sit apart from everyone. Remote, silent. The Three. We will destroy you, he had declared. How?

  And now his attention came to rest finally on Torkyn Gynt. His brother. The man who had been sent to kill him. He had a kind face…a sad face. They both knew what it was to lose the woman they loved. His brother was his opposite in colouring. Where he was golden-haired and violet-eyed, his sibling was dark with an arresting pair of blue eyes. He too felt sad. In another lifetime, a different context, they might have been close brothers, good friends. A strong fraternal love might have existed. Instead they were pitted against one another. One must destroy the other in order to survive. He hoped his father would pay that visit and watch what he had contrived.

  Next to his brother sat a younger version of Gynt. It was uncanny. Ah, Orlac thought, staring intently through the vision of Pelyss, this is the third child; Lauryn’s other brother.

  All accounted for. All waiting. He hadn’t realised he had spoken the thought in his head.

  What? Why are you staring out so intently? What do you see? Dorgryl exclaimed, his exasperation beating him.

  Hush now, uncle, we are close.

  Their initial shock had been replaced by tears. And when the weeping was done, the Friends of the Heartwood sat in an awkward pause. Solyana’s usual suggestion to eat had failed to entice anyone towards the food laid out. Now they murmured quietly amongst themselves, wondering what might happen. At the back of each of their minds was the question of what would trigger the commencement of the final battle—for surely this was what they were facing? Orlac was coming—when and how no one knew—but they all understood this was it. This final confrontation within the Heartwood had been centuries in the making, during which time spirits had been broken and lives had been lost and won again. Orlac would die or they would. There was no turning back now; no escape.

  Gradually their attention fell back upon Tor. The One. He alone would guide them now.

  Tor looked up from his quiet thoughts. He had been experiencing the sensation for some time now that eyes were upon him; probing, searching. When he saw all of them staring in his direction he put it down to that and yet a vague sense of being ‘touched’ by someone else was still there—he could not shake the notion.

  Can you feel it? he asked Cloot.

  The eyes? Yes. Strange. What is it?

  I don’t know but listen to me now, no heroics.

  What do you mean?

  You know exactly what I’m saying. I want you to live, Cloot.

  Not at your expense, my son. You forget. I am Paladin…and more, I am bonded to you alone. I would die before I would see you harmed.

  Cloot, please I—

  Hush, Tor. There is no more to be discussed. The moment has arrived. We face our destiny now. I have mine and you have yours. Let’s walk towards it bravely. Life or death change not how I have loved you over these years or love you now. I feel your grief. I also feel your anger. Don’t let’s allow her death to be in vain. Don’t let’s allow our deaths—if that’s what is asked—to be in vain either. I am not afraid.

  Tears welled in Tor’s eyes. Cloot’s nobility was always so potent and inspiring. I am not afraid either.

  Then guide those now who would follow you blindly and faithfully no matter what stood before them. Don’t waste their precious blood in indecision. Be true to yourself. The answers lie within you. Remember, Tor, you are the One.

  Tor looked around. ‘Does anyone have anything to share? Now perhaps will be our last chance.’

  Faces still pinched from the shock of Alyssa’s death stared back at him. Tor felt their emptiness keenly. Everyone, including himself, had worked towards this time and yet now that they were here, none of them knew what was expected of them; how to wield their magic effectively. They were looking to him to show them and he felt helpless.

  All the Paladin were as still as statues—the only erratic movement being from the dog, Pelyss, who scampered around their feet— all, that is, except Solyana. Tor had not noticed until now that the wolf had been restless for several minutes. She had begun to sniff the air and pad silently around the outside of the circle in which Pelyss played, the circle the Paladin and the Trinity formed. A low rumble had begun to issue from her throat—so soft at first as to be hardly noticeable—but it built gradually in intensity until they were all looking towards the wolf. Her lips had begun to pull back to reveal long, menacing teeth.

  This further disturbed everyone and the two soldiers amongst them instinctively reached for their swords. Somehow Cyrus knew it was useless but he liked the comforting feel of the blade in his hand. He noticed the King had even brought along a bow from amongst the weapons he had stocked on The Raven. Cyrus could see the beautifully fletched arrows in a quiver nearby. He loved to shoot with a bow. In his days as Prime, no one bar the King even came close to matching his skills. He could shoot down birds on the wing with such mastery that Lorys had good-naturedly proclaimed him a freak and refused to shoot against him. He wondered now, vaguely, amongst this fresh fear at Solyana’s behaviour, whether Gyl was adept with the bow too. He promised himself that if they lived past this day, he would make a point of finding out.

  Solyana was no longer just making noise. Her strange yellow eyes seemed to be riveted on the golden puppy playing happily amongst their feet.

  ‘What is it?’ Tor asked her. ‘Is he coming?’

  No, she growled—it was a chilling voice none of them had heard from her before. He’s already here, and she sprang towards Pelyss, her large and powerful jaw clamping around the puppy’s neck. Pelyss screamed in terror.

  Orlac rocked backwards as his spell on Pelyss was broken.

  It is time, he said quietly before taking one last long breath of the fragrance of the Ciprean royal gardens and casting out powerfully.

  Dorgryl, caught unawares, felt the air around them sizzle. He knew he had but seconds now and with every last ounce of strength he could muster, forced the red mist to flow angrily through his host. Orlac, who was guiding them in a massively potent transporting magic, was momentarily weakened by his efforts. More importantly, he was diverted as he focused all of his energies on moving his body through the magical planes which would take him from Cipres to the Heartwood in moments.

  He could not fight off the monstrous effort of Dorgryl and achieve the transportation.

  He had to choose.

  Panic gripped the Heartwood’s own as Lauryn began to scream, terrified for her dog. However, the huge wolf released the pup almost as soon as she had struck because she felt the spirit of the god who used his eyes and ears disappear.

  He’s left the dog, Solyana said quietly across the Link.

  Everyone began speaking at once. They were stunned by this news.

&nbs
p; ‘Silence!’ Cyrus ordered, the first to recover from the shock of Solyana’s revelation. ‘Form a circle and turn outwards.’

  ‘Be vigilant,’ Saxon said, his nervousness making him speak his thoughts aloud.

  Silence gripped them as they waited. The old fear at facing Orlac came home to roost amongst the Paladin. It was a familiar feeling.

  The falcon felt it too. Be strong now, Cloot whispered to his companions. Our task is done now, Paladin. It is up to Tor and the Trinity—we must help them achieve what they were sent here to do. Hold the Link open, no matter what. And then on a private Link to Tor he added: This is your time, my son.

  Tor had no time to respond. He felt it first. Orlac comes, he said, looking at each one slowly in what felt like a farewell. Brave Paladin, thank you, he called gently. He glanced to each of the children he loved. Trinity…you must do whatever it is you were meant to do. I know not what that is. But you will when the moment arrives. Trust yourselves. Avenge your mother.

  Tor felt the reassuring thump of Cloot landing on his shoulder. He sensed Gidyon, Lauryn and Rubyn moving towards each other. Meanwhile the nine other members of the Paladin gathered, fanning out instinctively in the shape of an arrow behind him. Gyl melted back into the bushes, directly behind Lauryn, his sword and his bow at the ready. He would save her; fight for her—die for her if it was asked.

  Trees began to shudder about them and the soft sunlight which had filtered through seemed to dull, plunging them into a false darkness. Below them the land rumbled as if it might crack open. They held hands and opened their minds to each other.

  The Light guide us, Cyrus said.

  The air ahead began to spin, whipping up dust from the earth and leaves which had fallen from the trees in their mighty distress. It began to shimmer, ghostly pale at first but gathering in a golden intensity until they could make out the shape of a man. He was tall and broad…and possessed by madness.

  His eyes glowed red.

  It was Lauryn who screamed. Dorgryl!

  The noise about him died down. The earth stopped its rumbling but the trees of the Heartwood still groaned softly. They did not like the beast amongst them.

  ‘Greetings One and all,’ Dorgryl said, smiling broadly with Orlac’s mouth.

  Tor seized control. ‘I will not speak with you,’ he said and watched the smile die on Orlac’s face.

  ‘Not speak with me?’ the thing raged in its deep and ugly voice. ‘Do you know who I am?’

  ‘You are Dorgryl. Sad possessor of tragically fallen gods. You have no place amongst the Host and you have no place here. Begone beast!’ Tor spoke angrily.

  Enraging him is a clever tactic, Cloot offered sagely into Tor’s mind only.

  ‘I would speak only with Orlac,’ Tor persisted.

  ‘You will speak with me, fool, before I destroy you and all your pathetic protectors. Ah, Lauryn, my dear, have the bruises healed? I did not mean to push against you quite so hard when we lay together.’

  Lauryn felt her bile rise but her brothers squeezed her hands so tight she could not move. No one had considered Gyl, who, hearing Lauryn so taunted, broke cover from the bushes, brandishing his sword. The bow and single arrow he had nocked dropped as he ran towards the god. They landed at the feet of Cyrus.

  Orlac’s hand twitched and the King of Tallinor was flung clear across their heads with such force there was little chance he could have survived the impact against one of the great oaks if that same tree had not deftly leaned down its branches to capture him in the air. The branches quickly lifted the limp body into their highest reaches and away from trouble. He was useless against Orlac. He was a liability amongst the Friends.

  As Lauryn wept it was Rubyn’s calm voice which helped her. The trees will protect him. Fear not for him…only for us.

  It bewildered those around him to hear Tor sneer. It struck them as pointless to stoke the fury of this already-enraged god. Yet he persisted and they trusted.

  ‘Is that it, Dorgryl? Is that the best you can achieve with all that power at your fingertips…and the King a mortal at that?’

  ‘Time for you to die, Gynt,’ Dorgryl announced.

  ‘I’m ready. We all are, coward,’ Tor shouted back. ‘But let me look on my brother. Let me see with my own eyes this wretch you inhabit.’

  They all felt Orlac’s true presence pushing angrily against Dorgryl’s.

  ‘Clever you are, Gynt, playing us against one another,’ the elder god said.

  Tor ignored Dorgryl. ‘Do you hear me, Orlac? Cast this demon out and face me—or is it that you fear me so much you hide?’

  They watched the red mist of the eyes dull slightly and something else momentarily shone through.

  ‘I see you cringe behind your uncle. So, all those centuries of struggle for this? You’ll allow him the pleasure of defeating us? We go to our deaths knowing you are, and probably always were, a coward.’

  Cloot no longer thought this wise. Tor—

  Hush. Look.

  The golden man’s body began to shake. The face contorted horribly as an internal struggle began to take place. The Paladin and Trinity watched in a horrified fascination as two gods warred within one body for supremacy. A terrible guttural sound came from Orlac’s mouth but they suspected the noise was Dorgryl’s as he wrestled desperately to hang onto his possession.

  Across the Link Tor heard the Paladin’s frightened questions.

  Trust me. Lys once told me it was Dorgryl’s arrogance that won him his place in the Bleak. Arrogance will be his undoing again she has counselled.

  No one understood but their faith in Torkyn Gynt held strong.

  What do you propose to do? Cloot asked privately.

  Invite him out.

  Where to?

  Into me.

  Have you gone mad as well?

  It’s the only way.

  Why?

  I’m strong enough to overcome him.

  He heard Cloot click angrily in his head whilst they watched the monstrous battle taking place before their eyes. Orlac’s body was sheened with the sweat of his exertions to oust his uncle. For the moment it looked as though he might be gaining the ascendancy, as the eyes now showed a definite violet hue.

  What makes you so sure? the falcon demanded.

  Because I’m smarter than my brother and…

  And what, Tor? Cloot was shouting into his head now.

  I have nothing more to lose.

  Other than your children?

  Other than my children, he echoed, before adding sadly, and my friends. He reached up and briefly patted his falcon. You have to trust me. He looked again to his brother as the trees around them creaked and groaned with sickening force.

  ‘Welcome to the Heartwood, Orlac,’ Tor called and the golden god stared back, blazing fury through violet eyes. He was breathing deeply.

  ‘I will show you no more mercy than Dorgryl,’ Orlac’s real voice said.

  ‘I’m not interested in your mercy.’

  The god nodded. ‘Perhaps you are interested to learn that your Alyssa died bravely. She lured Xantia and Dorgryl away from your daughter for long enough to permit Lauryn’s escape.’

  Orlac watched Tor flinch at his wife’s name. He knew he had hurt him.

  Tor clamped his jaw hard. He would not allow his resolve to be undone so easily. He took a deep breath and pressed on. ‘Dorgryl, I know you can hear me. I know what you want. All I want is to destroy my brother. I will give you my body, if you will help me.’

  A Link opened in his mind and an ugly voice spoke. Why?

  You have knowledge. You have power. Combine them with mine— we can defeat him. And then my body is yours to command.

  I ask again, why?

  Because I have already lost what I love.

  Ah, Alyssa. She was very brave to her end, you know.

  It took all his will to respond without showing despair. So I hear. Tor fought the urge to ask more. He bit back on the rush of questions and forced h
is manner to be calm. He watched Orlac raise his arms high and Tor immediately created a mighty shield about them so he could buy some time to ward off whatever was about to be hurled.

  He tried one last time. Come to me, Dorgryl. He stepped forward. I open myself to you. I am a god. I am what you want, surely? I can give you what you crave and in my body you can be all-powerful.

  The trees began to murmur their own despair and the Flames of the Firmament appeared, the normally sweet chimes discordant and angry. They rushed about Tor begging him not to do this. The Paladin intensified their Link, bonding themselves powerfully to one another. They had no idea what might happen but they did know they would need their combined strength to fight it. Pelyss began to bark and the three children called anxiously to their father.

  Amongst this cacophony of sound, the people fell silent, transfixed as they watched a bloody red mist lift itself out of Orlac’s body, and sway above him.

  Are you ready? Cloot asked Cyrus privately. His voice had an urgency.

  Cyrus bent and picked up the bow at his feet, resetting the arrow in position. I can’t do this.

  You will! the falcon commanded. You may be the First. But I am First Paladin to the One. You will do exactly as I say.

  Cloot’s voice was hard and angry. Cyrus did not like the plan one bit. But he nodded, frightened by what he had been told to do.

  Orlac staggered, breathing deeply. The sense of freedom from the thing inside was intoxicating.

  The burning of the stone in his pocket pulled Gidyon out of shock.

  Rubyn! Lauryn! The stones. They’re calling to us. Where are your stones?

  They looked at him, stupefied, not having been sure whether they should tear their eyes from the red mist. Gidyon looked so intense they finally obeyed, digging deep into their pockets and lifting out their stones to match his. The trio of dull-coloured stones was blazing iridescent rainbow colours with such a fierce intensity, they were blinded.