Dark Moon Rising (The Prophecies of Zanufey)

by A. Evermore

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Across The Ocean Between Worlds

  Thick black fog was trying to cloud out her consciousness, to keep her from remembering who she was. But Issa had glimpsed freedom and the Shadowlands could not keep its hold on her living life force as she fought her way back from oblivion, the dregs of Edarna’s potion slowly leaving her wasted body.

  Issa opened her eyes and found herself slumped against Asaph’s chest, the steady beat of his heart stilled the rising panic within her own; he was not a wraith. She was light-headed but clear-headed, as if a heavy veil of deceit was being lifted from her eyes. There was no more raging storm or White Beast or dark force. Instead a dense mist rolled around them and all was silent.

  ‘Issa,’ she breathed her name, remembering. The man who held her looked down, his blue eyes searched her own, ‘You passed out, and I carried you,’ he explained, ‘you were so deathly pale I thought you were gone. But now there is some colour in your cheeks. Issa,’ he spoke her name to himself as if to feel how it sounded.

  Issa glanced at her arms; small blotches of pink were slowly forming. ‘I had been given a potion, to make me seem as dead so I could survive in the Shadowlands, but now it is wearing off,’ she explained. ‘Where are we?’ she didn’t recognise the marshland; tall reeds struck up like needles through the mirror-like surface of still waters. Trees lurked along the banks, lumbering beasts that crept closer, only to stop and stay still when you looked at them. Thick tendrils of mist were ghostly fingers that curled and moved of their own accord for there was not even a breeze to move them.

  ‘We are not free of the Shadowlands yet, but hang upon its fringes,’ Asaph replied and anxiously chewed his lip.

  ‘We must leave as fast as we can,’ Issa said, her voice was as weak as she felt. Asaph squeezed her arm.

  ‘I think we came from over there,’ he pointed to another clump of reeds that looked like any other. Slowly they moved through the marshes, Issa leaning heavily upon him.

  ‘We will soon be free of this forsaken place,’ Asaph reassured, turning to smile at her in a way that made her blush.

  Issa could see him clearly now in the muted light as he scanned the marshes. He wore thick woven trousers, a wide leather belt and scabbard within which hung a heavy long sword. She would have wondered why he wore a sword, had it not seemed so natural upon him. A leather jerkin covered his white shirt and a heavy cloak reaching to his knees hung loosely upon his shoulders. His accent was strange and he often seemed to struggle with some words as if the Common Tongue, Frayonesse, did not come naturally, that he was not speaking his own language. He cannot be from Frayon, she thought.

  He caught her gaze and she looked away, hugging her arms self-consciously realising she wore only rags and wondering where her waders had gone. Only her blacksmith’s belt was holding her clothes together and she probably would have lost that too had it not been secured around her. She sighed quietly with relief when a squeeze of one of the belt’s pockets had her money pouch still within it. It was some comfort to think she may indeed need the coins again. Asaph noticed her shivering and unhooked his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. She smiled gratefully but could not meet his eyes, feeling her cheeks burning.

  ‘It pleases me more than you can know to see you both here now,’ another man’s voice came from somewhere, making her jump instinctively behind Asaph; he had a sword after all. She peered from behind him to see a white-haired man emerge from the tall reeds. Asaph did not react at all and instead was grinning in amusement.

  The two men then spoke a language she did not understand. The older man stopped before them and dropped two fully stuffed backpacks at his feet. He smiled kindly at her. Like Asaph he was tall with angular features and long hair that he wore tied back at the nape, though he had a long beard and a deeply lined face. He wore a tunic that came to his knees, breaches and long light-grey cloak. He leant heavily on a thick gnarly staff but despite his age his grey eyes were bright and full of knowing.

  There was something else about him that caught her attention, more a feeling than seen and she wondered at it for a while. There was an air about him, some kind of power she had never felt before that was beyond the mere physical. Now she focused upon the feeling she could sense a little in Asaph too, though it seemed more hidden.

  Come to think of it, Edarna had a similar power, but it was earthier, more feminine. She smiled inwardly at her returning memories and hoped that the old Witch was all right. Edarna, I made it out! She wished she could speak in person to the Witch.

  Asaph hugged the older man; unspoken relief in their eyes.

  ‘Issa, this is my father, Coronos,’ he said.

  Coronos reached forward and kissed her hand. She hesitated and then smiled at him, nervousness clouding out any words she might have said. A strange gesture, she thought, one that would be right for important ladies and royalty and she wondered if he was in some way linked to royalty himself. She glanced at Asaph; could it be that he is a prince of sorts? Such thoughts did nothing to relax her and so she pushed them aside, deciding to form no judgements until she knew more.

  ‘I even prayed to the Night Goddess that you would return again,’ Coronos said, turning back to Asaph, ‘this deathly place eats away at the very soul.’ His voice was taut though he didn’t stumble over his words like Asaph did, he was far more used to Frayonesse.

  Asaph nodded, ‘Let us be gone from here.’ He turned to face the still water, stood in quiet concentration for a moment, and then spoke.

  ‘Murlonius.’

  The name echoed loudly, out of place in the silence. It rippled through Issa as if she were a still pond whose peace was broken by a thrown pebble.

  A dot of yellow light shrouded in mist appeared on the horizon. It grew as it neared and in a few moments the prow of a boat materialised. The boatman was a hooded and cloaked figure who stood up and guided the boat with an oar through the marshes towards them. She stared at the ornately carved boat, noticing that it cast no wake in the water, as if it glided only through air or belonged to another time and place entirely.

  Asaph held the boat against the bank and beckoned to them. She cautiously took his outstretched hand and stepped in after Coronos. Asaph hopped in behind her. The boatman said nothing but Issa could feel his eyes upon her. She looked up at him from her seat, but could not see his face for the darkness of his hood. Still, she knew his eyes watched her and it was unsettling.

  Asaph reached into the sack at his feet and passed her a wrapped object.

  ‘Jungle Stew filled roll,’ he explained, ‘you look starving.’

  Issa smiled, he was right. As daintily as a starving person could, she tucked into the roll. But the first taste of solid food was too much and after a few bites she set the roll down.

  ‘It is nice but… it has been a long time. I’ll eat it slowly,’ she smiled apologetically back at him.

  Her attention was caught by a caw and rush of air as the raven landed on the side of the boat next to her. Its sudden arrival did not startle her and instead his presence was comforting, as if an old friend had arrived. They looked at each other and slowly the memory returned. I followed you, she thought, you saved me from the Dromoorai. The raven gave a low caw in response. She did not see Coronos watching her and the bird as he sat deep in thought, though he said nothing.

  ‘Stole my ring it did,’ Asaph said in mock crossness. The raven looked at him with wide innocent eyes.

  ‘It’s a he,’ she laughed.

  ‘Really? How can you tell? They all look the same to me,’ Asaph replied with a shrug.

  ‘Well, it’s obvious,’ Issa said, and then realised it wasn’t obvious to most people who couldn’t feel an animal’s presence as she could. ‘I just have a feel for animals,’ she explained weakly.

  ‘Well it, him, stole the ring and caused all this trouble,’ Asaph laughed, ‘but I forgive it and am glad he did.’ Issa smiled and saw Coronos grinning too.

&nb
sp; As the boatman pushed them through the reeds, his sleeves fell back a little and Issa noticed with a shock that he had six fingers on each hand, and his hands were shrivelled and wrinkled with great age. She tried not to stare but how could such an old man manage this boat? When the mist engulfed them and the world was lost from view, he reached up and pulled down his hood.

  A gasp escaped Issa’s throat before she could stop it, for his hands were no longer shrivelled with age, but young and smooth. She glanced up at his face and saw a human one but unlike any she had seen before. He had long pale-blue hair and long ears and an elongated head. His skin was flawless, like marble, his violet, almond-shaped eyes caught hers and she sensed old wisdom within him. He smiled at her, his aquiline features were beautiful and she had to look away rather than stare longer.

  ‘Murlonius is one of the Ancients, a people gone long ago from Maioria,’ Asaph explained. Issa nodded and inclined her head towards Murlonius.

  ‘I remember something Ma said about an ancient race,’ she faltered, trying to remember, ‘but the Shadowlands has dimmed my memory.’

  Whenever Issa thought the boatman was not looking she stole a glance at him, but each time she caught his eyes for he was always watching her. Instead she closed her eyes and pretended to doze but her thoughts only focused more fully upon the boatman. She sensed a great sadness, as if a dark shadow lay heavy on his shoulders.

  An image of a woman flashed in her mind, with features similar to the boatman’s, but then the image was ripped away, replaced by two triangular eyes of swirling lights that bore into her soul. She tried to turn away but could not. The eyes turned red and it felt like her mind was burning and heavy pounding echoed around her. The shadow of a raven crossed her inner vision, breaking it. She opened her eyes. Her breath came fast and shallow. The boatman tore his eyes from hers, fear raw upon his face. She was suddenly deathly cold and wrapped Asaph’s cloak tighter.

  ‘Issa? Are you all right?’ Asaph asked.

  His voice seemed to come from far away. She blinked and looked back into a worried face.

  ‘I think so… I drifted and saw eyes watching me,’ she frowned and wiped her clammy forehead, ‘it’s probably nothing,’ she trailed off.

  ‘Be careful what you think,’ Coronos said quietly, ‘the soul is weak here; we must get as far away as we can from the Shadowlands lest we too become trapped and fade away.’

  ‘We should be as quiet as we can,’ the boatman urged.

  Issa swallowed and nodded in agreement but still felt the boatman’s eyes watching her, it seemed he could not look away for long, but she dared not look at him again, afraid of what else she might see. She picked up her roll and tried a few more bites.

  They moved in silence through a strange ocean that was completely still and, though the mist had cleared, shimmered with a white glow. The sky above was also white so that sea and sky blurred into one all-encompassing light, the line of the horizon barely distinguishable. The only noise came from the soft splashing of the boatman’s oars as he rhythmically rowed, though no ripples or wake marked their passing.

  ‘Is it far?’ she whispered after a long time, trying to keep her mind from thinking about those burning red triangular eyes.

  ‘The journey is not long but we travel an unfathomable distance. Whether we will make it has yet to be decided, for none have I ever brought back from the Land of Shadows,’ the boatman’s voice was low, though he seemed more relaxed with each passing minute as they moved away from the Shadowlands. She hugged her shoulders, finding no comfort in his words, and turned to Asaph.

  ‘Back there you mentioned I was needed. What did you mean? Where is it we are going? My memory is hazy but I remember the Dromoorai came and destroyed my home upon the Isles of Kammy and everyone that I knew. I left in the hope of trying to reach the Main Land, Frayon, a foolish hope,’ Issa explained and swallowed down a hard lump, the memory of the blackened and destroyed houses returning in full force.

  Asaph was silent for a moment, as if considering her words and his. Coronos looked on, still deep in thought.

  ‘Um, it’s a bit difficult to explain and hard to believe, even I don’t fully understand it,’ he began awkwardly. ‘All my life I have had these terrible dreams of a White Beast and a girl that looked like you. I never knew what the dreams meant, and still don’t, only that they were true, and everything that just happened back there in the Shadowlands happened in my dreams, all except this part, where we escaped the White Beast. It is like my dreams were warning me about the future.

  ‘Anyway, just the other day I had a vision, though I swear it was real and no vision at all,’ he rubbed his chest as if it were sore and then continued. ‘As I said, the raven stole that ring,’ he pointed to the ring on her hand, ‘and I chased it and fell, but it was like I fell into another realm for the world was a desert under a midnight sky and there was this massive stone doorway.’

  Issa listened wide-eyed as Asaph words unlocked her own memory of the shimmering door. His voice filtered down to her every now and again… ‘a woman wearing the strangest robe covered in stars that moved…,’ ‘…her face I could never see…’ Yes, she remembered now, the woman cloaked in the stars had beckoned to her but she had fallen back in fear.

  ‘It is a long story,’ he sighed. Issa came back to the present. ‘To cut it short this other woman, an Ancient like Murlonius...’ In the corner of her eye Issa saw the boatman abruptly stop rowing and then continue silently. ‘... Told me that if you did not escape the Shadowlands then all is lost. I don’t understand it either,’ Asaph added when she frowned, ‘but I saw a terrible fate befall the world as the Immortal Lord draws us into the Dark Rift. It seems that you and I are connected to that fate in some way,’ he seemed about to add something but changed his mind.

  ‘No, please keep the ring,’ he said when she took it off, ‘please keep it safe, the raven meant for you to have it. I accepted the task to find you, if I could, but I could not have done it without the raven.’

  Issa looked at the ring dubiously, it wasn’t hers and the thought of being bound by something she did not understand did not sit well. She was afraid of his words, of what he had seen that mirrored her own experience, somehow making it more real and more disturbing. She had chosen to follow him, though there was no other choice, and now there was no going back. He was right, she conceded, the raven had given the ring to her and of all the beings in the world she could trust, the raven was the first.

  ‘I shall look after it for you,’ she said and smiled, ‘though I know little of my task. I had no idea the Dromoorai were real until they destroyed all that I love.’

  ‘Long ago they too destroyed all that we loved,’ Asaph comforted. ‘We come from the Unchartered Lands, as it is known to the Old World,’ he indicated to himself and Coronos, ‘but we originally come from Drax, a land in the north that was destroyed by Baelthrom.’

  The Immortal Lord’s name sent a shudder through her. ‘Drax, I remember it on the map,’ she cast her mind back to the Map of the Known World, a large old curling map pasted on to the classroom wall. She remembered thinking that the land of the Dragon Lords looked like a giant Dragon tooth. ‘I had no idea that the Unchartered Lands were reachable or inhabited.’

  ‘We were lucky to reach there,’ Coronos’s voice was low and thick with emotion.

  Issa was suddenly overwhelmed with questions but a wave of exhaustion came over her and instead she leant against the side of the boat and stared at the hypnotic glittering sea. It felt safe here in the white light of this strange ocean between worlds, but beyond it darkness and danger gnawed at the edges and it was to the darkness they headed.

  A slumbering sleep stole over her. She dreamed of a thick, terrible, darkness smothering a beautiful, bountiful land, and the blood red of a dying sun spilling before it, engulfing everything in its dying light.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Battle Between Leviathans

  The raven’s caw jolted her a
wake, cutting through her dream like a knife. No sooner had Issa opened her eyes than her head began to pound and queasiness settled in her stomach. A terrible wailing rang out around them. She gripped the side of the boat fighting against the fear and nausea.

  She knew that sound intimately and its desperate calling was for her.

  The sky had darkened and the sea was no longer calm, instead choppy waves lapped at the boat, becoming increasingly violent by the minute. The wind gusted until it felt like solid punches. They were no longer in the ocean between worlds.

  ‘Keteth is here,’ Asaph barked and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, but she could see the worry in his face and swallowed against her own fear.

  ‘That’s impossible!’ Coronos said.

  ‘We must hurry,’ the boatman’s voice cut through the noise, still melodic despite the howling wind. In the distance moving in the ocean behind him she saw a great white shape that made her shudder. A terrible, desperate, longing overwhelmed her and she reached over the boat for the water.

  ‘Issa, no!’ Asaph cried and hauled her back into the boat.

  Issa struggled against his rough grasp, but what little strength she had soon left her and she sagged. Without Edarna’s potion to protect her, Keteth’s calling was unbearable, it gripped her heart and scattered her mind. She longed to be free from Asaph’s grasp so that she could dive into those dark waters and descend into its depths, down and down until the surface was but a distant memory.

  Cold sweat trickled down her back, she clenched her eyes shut, but Keteth’s yearning only grew louder, lulling her with enchantments that wrapped around her. His power was so strong out here in the open ocean and she could not fight him.