Broken World Book Four - The Staff of Law

by Southwell, T C

  He gazed at her sadly. “Do you remember when you offered me regret for making that wish against my will?”

  She nodded, unable to force words past the lump in her throat.

  “I’ll accept your regret now, my little clan.”

  His tender nickname brought fresh tears to burn her eyes, and she buried her face in his chest, struggling to croak the ritual word through a tight throat. “Regret.”

  “Wish.”

  “Wish,” she whispered.

  “Let me go. If you love me, let me go.”

  Talsy’s legs buckled, and she sank to the floor, held in his arms as he knelt beside her. He cradled her while she wept with wild abandon, until her arms ached from holding him and her throat grew raw from crying. Chanter bowed his head, and she sensed his anguish at her pain as if he shared it. When she glanced up at him, glowing blue tears ran down his cheeks. She raised a hand to rub them away, startled and amazed. The liquid dewed her fingertips like tiny jewels.

  “You weep for me?” Her breath caught.

  He nodded. “Mujar did not have the ability to feel personal loss, only to share in that of others.”

  “And you choose to share mine.”

  “Yes.” Fresh tears coursed down his face.

  Her weeping redoubled as she wiped them away.

  He whispered, “Forgive me for this pain I cause you. I never meant to hurt you.”

  She raised tearful eyes, pulling him closer to kiss him. “I forgive you.” She gave a shuddering sigh. “Will you grant me one more wish?”

  “Wish.”

  “Stay with me for one more night. Just one more.”

  He nodded. “I will. Antanar will change us tomorrow at dawn.”

  “So soon,” she whispered.

  “It’s better this way.”

  Chanter picked up a tiny glass vase from the table, emptied out the single flower and water, and gathered the tears that ran down his cheeks. He plugged it with a piece of rag and pressed it into her hands.

  “Keep this, as a remembrance of this day and what we have shared. I gave Kieran the Starsword, but I have given you nothing save the mark on your brow. This will remind you of my sorrow, my little clan. I don’t want to hurt you, but I crave my true form. Can you understand that? Once I’ve regained it, I’ll be truly happy, though I wish it didn’t cause you pain. Here is the measure of my misery, so you’ll never forget that I wept for you. Mujar don’t weep, but I’ve discovered that our bond is so strong that when you weep in my arms, so do I. This is a unique thing that only we share.”

  Talsy gazed at the glowing tears, numbed by the pain in her heart. “You gave me Ordal.”

  “The Starsword was a worthy gift,” he went on, as if he had not heard her, “and perhaps you will think this a poor one by comparison, but it isn’t. There lies my sorrow, my anguish as never shed by Mujar before, and only for you. We have travelled far and seen many things, helped to break the world and put it back together again. You will become a legend amongst your people. Your name will live on in their tales, forever linked to mine.

  “You are the First Chosen, who saved her people, bore a Mujar son and restored the laws to the world. I’ll return often to you, sit with you in the sun in your little garden and listen to your tales. I’ll understand them, and nod, and perhaps I’ll teach you Mujar gestures so I can tell you little things.

  “You’ll wed Kieran, and find happiness with him. You’ll show me your strong children, and I’ll be at your side when you lie on your deathbed and Marrana gathers your precious soul to her and takes you to the Lake of Dreams. I’ll never leave you. You’ll think me more beautiful in my true form, and I’ll grant your wishes. In time, my inability to speak and lie with you will be of no importance. All this, I promise.”

  “What will you look like?” she asked.

  “I can’t describe what I’ve never seen, nor have any memory of, but I’ll be beautiful, as are all the creatures of this world. Once I have my true form, I’ll no longer be able to change into others, for that’s not a Mujar Power, but one the gods granted us when they changed us.”

  “Then you won’t be able to fly!”

  “I will. Mujar can fly.”

  Talsy held up the vase to study the glowing blue liquid within it. She leant against his warm chest, and his arms enfolded her. “What powers do Mujar tears have?”

  Chanter smiled. “What makes you think they have any?”

  “Because you shed them, they must.”

  “Mujar don’t weep, so their properties have never been tested, but I suppose it’s safe to assume that they might have powers.”

  She sighed and wiped her eyes. “How will the gods change you?”

  “A portal will appear somewhere in the valley tomorrow. A glowing arch, I think. All we have to do is step through it, and we’ll be transformed. There is one thing, though. Antanar warned me not to hesitate, not to turn back once I have started to walk through it.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “He didn’t say.”

  “I won’t recognise you afterwards, will I?”

  “You’ll know me, because I’ll come to you.”

  “And Travain?”

  His mouth twisted with regret. “I doubt your wish will hold him. Wishes were a part of the testing, and now that’s over.”

  “Why do the gods want to cause me so much pain by taking you away? Haven’t I earned their love?”

  His arms tightened. “You have. Of course you have. This isn’t meant to punish you. It’s my reward, just as yours is the paradise they’ve given you. Be happy for me. Share my joy as I’ve shared your grief. I have earned happiness too.”

  “Are you so unhappy now?”

  “I’ll be happier when I return to my true form. Even though I was born like this, and can’t remember true Mujar form, I’ve always had a sense of strangeness, of being in the wrong body. I can’t take the form of a creature of this world. The gods did this because otherwise we would have changed into a form like our own and stayed that way, which would not have suited their purpose.”

  Fresh tears stung her eyes. “I’ll die without you.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  They sat together in silence, while Talsy struggled to accept this sudden, terrible turn of events and summon some gladness for him. When the women who helped to run the castle arrived, Sheera took Ordal to a wet nurse in the valley so Talsy could spend the day alone with Chanter, in autumn’s peaceful waning warmth. It seemed like her last day of happiness. She kept assuring herself that he was only changing his form, but this brought little comfort. Kieran took the news well, though he looked a little sad, and made himself scarce for the rest of the day.

  In the afternoon, Chanter summoned the two young Mujar and told them the news. After Drummer and Dancer left, Talsy walked with him through the valley, circled the lake and returned to the garden, where they talked for many hours. She savoured the day, asked all the questions she could think of and received long explanations. Chanter showed her some simple Mujar gestures, and explained their meaning. She had no appetite for dinner, and they retired early to her room. She did not want the night to end, but eventually tiredness claimed her.

  Chanter lay beside Talsy and watched her sleep, wishing she was happy for him. He longed to share his joy with her, as he had shared her sorrow. She would find it confusing, however, since she would know it was not her own. He sensed that she needed to feel the grief, and share it with him. His sadness told her of his love for her, and she needed to know that now, more than anything. He did love her, in his own way, as a sweet girl who had saved him and cherished him. It was hard not to love someone who loved him as much as she did. He did not begrudge her the grief she had sown in him; it was a fitting punishment for the pain he caused her.

  The return of his true form marked the beginning of a new life, at one with his world, at peace with himself. He did not understand her grief, although he had known she would feel it. He regrette
d causing it, but the joy of his coming transformation could not be sullied. In time, she would accept it, and be happy with Kieran and Ordal. He was glad now that the gods had given her the son she had always wanted. Surely she and Kieran would have more children to fill her life with laughter.

  At dawn, he woke her and held her while she wept again, then helped her to dress and wiped away her tears, repeating his promises. As the sun crept towards the top of the mountains, they walked out onto the frosty grass. Kieran waited outside, looking a little embarrassed at his assumption of her need, but she was glad of his moral support. Chanter surveyed the valley with his arm around her, and she clung to him, shivering in the dawn chill.

  “There.” He pointed.

  Chanter crossed the valley as it filled with rosy light, turning the mountains purple. Mist shrouded their feet and swirled as they walked through it. He glanced back to ensure that Kieran followed, a silent presence she would need all too soon. Two eagles glided past, converging on the spot Chanter headed for. The birds transformed in a rush of Ashmar, and the two young Mujar stood waiting for their father. When they reached them, Drummer stepped forward and bowed to Talsy.

  “Mother, I give you the gift of my joy.”

  Travain took her hands, and Chanter stepped aside. Talsy’s confusion turned to wonder as Travain opened himself to her. His pure sweet emotion flooded her, filled her heart with sunshine and chased away her sorrow. She gasped with amazement as laughter bubbled within her, and the most ecstatic, powerful joy she had ever experienced swamped her. She smiled and revelled in the intense elation he gave her, which lingered after he released her. Strengthened by it, she was able to stand alone and gaze across the beauty of the misty vale filled with predawn glow.

  As the sun rose and the light brightened, a glowing archway appeared not far away. At first it looked like a tiny rainbow, but, as the dawn light intensified, the colours became too bright, and glowed with their own luminescence. A pearly haze shot with gold sparkles formed within the archway, the colours of the gods, like a Mujar aura and the Lake of Dreams. The spiritual hues betokened the arch’s maker, its purity and function. Talsy’s joy drained away, and its cessation plunged her into a deeper despair. She stared at Chanter with desperate intensity, willing him to reject this gift and opt to stay with her, hoping beyond hope that his love for her would triumph over his longing for this strange new form. Yet deep within herself, she knew that he did not, and could not love her. He was Mujar, and the words of those who had warned her echoed in her mind.

  Dancer gestured to Chanter, indicating that he should go first, but Chanter hesitated, then flicked his fingers. The young Mujar needed no urging, and, with a puzzled glance at his father, walked towards the gateway. Talsy held her breath as he neared it. His tallana touched the pearly light and flared brilliant blue, then he softened it and stepped through. The archway veiled him until he moved out from behind it, and Talsy gasped.

  An alien creature emerged from the far side. Beautiful, in a strange, alien way, but, to her horror, he bore no resemblance to a man, and was about three times bigger. A gossamer crest of floating, silken blue-green plumes capped his graceful head. Black markings outlined his blue eyes and extended down to flared nostrils in a narrow snout. His lipless mouth had no capacity for expression, and his pointed white teeth confirmed Talsy’s suspicion that Mujar were predators. A long, graceful neck hid beneath the swirling silken fronds that curved from his crest, and narrow shoulders tapered to slender arms and hands tipped with short claws.

  The last two fingers of each hand were elongated and bent back to support the leading edge of a long wing membrane that joined his torso at his hips. Silken fronds sprouted at his groin, shorter in front and longer at the back, trailing from beneath his wings, along with a tail as long as his torso. His legs lacked a man’s powerful musculature, ending in upright feet with clawed toes. Patterns of pale rainbow hues marked his head and back, from the brilliant blue-green of his crest to the mingled soft pink and blues that shimmered on his wings. His torso, limbs and face were soft pale gold, but for the black markings around his eyes.

  With a fluting trill, Dancer took a few gambolling steps and leapt into the air, raising his wings in a single beat that lifted him several feet off the ground. He moved with amazing grace, making his former body seemed heavy and clumsy in comparison. He resembled an alien angel, Talsy thought, chewing her lip as she realised just what Mujar had lost in their transformation to the Trueman copy. Dancer raised his arms and spread his pointed wings, the shimmering colours bright in the morning sun. Drummer smiled at his brother’s joy and strode into the archway, to emerge transformed into an identical creature that frolicked with Dancer. His colours seemed a little brighter than Dancer’s, he was even larger, and his patterns were different.

  “They’re dragons,” Kieran murmured.

  Talsy turned to him in surprise. Truemen had tales of legendary, fire-breathing creatures, but the resemblance had not struck her until Kieran mentioned it. Now that he had, however, the similarity was so obvious that she wondered how she could have not seen it before, except, perhaps, because she did not want to. Dragons were in no way Truemen – not even vaguely – and that upset her. How could Mujar be dragons? How could she have borne a dragon two sons? It all seemed preposterous and unreal, yet, had a Trueman encountered a Mujar in his true form before meeting them as unmen, that was exactly what they would have thought they were.

  Talsy glanced down the valley at the creatures of this world that dwelt amongst the Truemen now. They stretched and unfurled their wings to the sun, just awakening. The similarities between the Mujars’ true form and theirs also struck her. Though none of the beasts compared to the Mujars’ grace, they shared colours and forms in many ways, just as Trueman beasts possessed Trueman traits. Their rainbow colours, silken wings and bright fronds betokened their kinship, even their speech of musical trills and fluting cries were alike. The realisation that this world was not her own hit home hard as Talsy watched the Mujar play. She glanced at Kieran, then at Chanter with pleading eyes. He came over to her and took her hands.

  “This is my destiny. I’m not going away. If you could accept me as a wolf or horse, surely you can accept this?”

  She shook her head. “Please don’t do this. Stay with me, as you are.”

  “No.” He looked down at her hands. “That I can’t do. I’ll be with you in my true form, and you’ll wed Kieran, as you promised.” He summoned the Prince with a gesture and pressed her hands into his. “Look after her, Kieran. She promised to marry you, for she does love you, no matter how much she denies it.”

  Talsy shot Kieran an embarrassed, angry look. “I don’t know where he gets that idea from.”

  Kieran smiled. “I hope he’s right.”

  Chanter stepped back. “I wish you both long life and happiness, and many strong sons to bring you the joy you deserve. I’ll expect an invitation to the wedding, and don’t let her give you too many black eyes, Kieran.”

  “I’m learning to duck faster.”

  “Good.” Chanter leant forward to kiss Talsy’s brow. “Remember, you’ll always be my little clan. I won’t desert you. Don’t be sad, share my joy.”

  Chanter swung away and headed for the archway with long strides. A dam of emotion burst inside Talsy, clogged her throat and flooded her heart with pain. She sobbed, struggling to get free of Kieran and run after Chanter. She wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him one last time. He had not said goodbye properly. A kiss on the brow was not enough to comfort her in the years of estrangement to come. Kieran hung onto her with some difficulty.

  “Stop it, Talsy. Let him go.”

  “No,” she sobbed. “I just want say goodbye, that’s all. Let me go! Cha-”

  Kieran clapped a hand over her mouth and growled in her ear, “Don’t call him back!”

  She wrenched her chin from his grip and cried, “Chanter, wait!”

  Unable to disobey the slight command the
name he had given her bestowed, the Mujar stopped and turned. A look of despair and horror twisted his face, and he fell to his knees, raising his hands in supplication. Behind him, the archway winked out of existence. The two young Mujar who played beyond it turned to stare at their father. Chanter sank back on his haunches, his hands drawing together before his chest in the palm up gesture as his eyes clung to the blue sky. He became still, and his eyes closed. Talsy screamed as his golden skin and black hair and clothes faded to grey.

  “Chanter!” Talsy jerked free of Kieran’s lax hold and ran to the Mujar. She dropped to her knees and reached for his hands, recoiling with a strangled cry. “I’m sorry! Oh, God, I’m so sorry! Chanter!”

  With trembling fingers, she touched his outstretched hands. The cold stone made her cringe, but she clung to him as if to will life back into him.

  Raising her head, she shouted, “No! Don’t do this! Don’t punish him for my mistake! Take me! If it’s vengeance you want, take me, not him!” She slumped against the statue that had been the Mujar. Her sobs tore through her in great racking wails. “Don’t do this... Don’t punish him like this...”

  Beyond Chanter’s frozen form, the two Mujar spun away and leapt into the air. A rush of Ashmar ruffled the grass as they rose on beating wings. They dwindled as they flew towards the mountains that ringed the valley and out into the world beyond. This was the freedom Chanter had longed for, and her stupidity had denied him the gift he so richly deserved.

  Talsy looked up at Kieran, a world of grief and anguish in her heart. He cursed and knelt beside her, pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair, and she hid her face in his chest.

  “He can’t die, he can’t,” she wept.

  “Don’t hope. You’ll drive yourself mad with grief, and I couldn’t bear to lose you too.”

  “He isn’t in the Lake of Dreams.”

  “No.” Kieran held her close. “He’s right here, and this is where he’s going to stay.”