by Lloyd Baron
“Well...” she prompts.
“I have been sent to investigate the creatures within the mountains,” he coughs and his body is wracked with spasms. The woman is upon him, lifting him into a sitting position and stroking his back. The spasm ebbs away and he relaxes back onto the cot. “Thank you,” he says gratefully.
“I can tell you are not used to being hurt. Have you ever been injured before?”
He shakes his head.
“Nor ill or even down in the dumps I would bet.” She sits beside him and she lets her shoulders fall. Her eyes become damp but no tears fall.
“We were meant to be on our way to Galvalou for an audience with the High Darkest. It was a summons, really. Our King believed it would open up an alliance and make us stronger.” O’us drops his jaw, shocked by her admittance. If this is the truth then it is an open act of power growth and could lead to war.
“The Empire of Flambour will not be happy with that alliance. Your borders are fragile at best and your King openly goads the Emperor. Filimer is not a reasonable man at the best of times. Three countries have already fallen under the weight of his rule. This is—”
“The only way to secure the survival of my home as an independent state.”
He ignores her outburst and continues. “—an open act of war. You haven’t attacked, but you have let them know you mean to do something.”
She glares down at him with open hatred. She goes to speak, but a scream from outside silences her. She glances at him with terrified eyes before fleeing through the tent flap. Without another thought of his injuries he leaps from the cot and follows.
The area outside the camp has descended into chaos. Goblins run in every direction, discipline forgotten in their fear. A small dark green man trips and crashes down at O’us’s feet. He drops down and lifts him back up. The difference between the two types of Goblin is amazing. Where the hybrids have human qualities, the goblins are pure animal. This one has a squashed face, wide snarling mouth and wide burning yellow eyes. It shrieks out of his grasp and flees.
He stands, the pain in his back flaring, but he tries not to think of it and runs through the throng of pushing bodies to find the tall woman. She stands at the very edge of the cliff staring down. He joins her and follows her gaze to the winding path leading up.
Lumbering up the path is the huge monster which had destroyed his camp that morning. He steps back from the edge and takes in the rapidly emptying base camp. They will not be packed up and on the march before it reaches the plateau. He grabs the woman by the shoulders and turns her towards him.
“You must all go now!” He shouts above the roar and clamor of the scared goblins. “Forget the tents and just get yourself out of here.” But she is lost to him, fear fills her eyes and tears fall down her cheeks.
“So many have already fallen. So many.”
O’us stares back towards the creature and lowers his head. “Then you will also fall. I’m sorry.” He launches himself off the edge of the cliff and soars into the sky. He looks back over his shoulder and his heart lurches. The beautiful hybrid has crumpled to her knees and sobs at the head of the path. She will be the monster’s first victim.
Anger boils up inside him. For all the good the Angels claim to do in the world they are just as she had said, reduced to a flock of tree-inhabiting librarians. Within him his anger explodes and he wheels on a wing-tip, diving straight for the crouching form.
The monster charges, surprisingly agile it leaps and strides over rock and fallen tree to reach her first. Its massive jaw opens and hundreds of yellow fangs dripping with saliva flick out from its gums. It jumps.
O’us’s hand snatches the woman under the arm and he hauls her to the side. The lizard snaps at them, the jaws clamping just out of reach, but its snout thumps into their backs. O’us and the woman tumble from the sky and hit the ground hard. He screams and his previous injury tears wide open. Blood pours from the wound, pooling under him. The ground shakes beneath him and dust fills the air as the monster crashes beside them.
The woman staggers to him and tries to get him to rise but the pain is just too much. He pushes himself up but falls back, gasping at the sudden pain.
“Wid'gorr Zy’ren,” a goblin, screams as he charges to her side, brandishing a spike. He stands his ground between the woman and the monster. “Uoy f’cgh.” He thrusts the point of the spike into the exposed neck, and for a second it looks like he may have fended it off. The beast lets out a cry and steps backwards swishing its tail and swinging its long neck. The goblin turns back to help the woman, though he does not make it a step. The massive jaws whips out and crush the tiny warrior. Blood and gore erupt across the plateau. With nothing standing between them now the beast moves forwards.
O’us’s Goblin is poor, though he knows the words that had been spoken. He is helpless now. He cannot get her to safety without the use of his wings. The injustice of the situation and the stupidity of his upbringing crashes upon him and his anger from earlier resurfaces. He flaps his wings, sending the woman sprawling across the earth. He regains his feet and turns on the monster.
All the teachings have told him that the use of the light energies is forbidden apart from shielding the Great Tree in times of need. He has always believed the teachings are in place to protect the world. But this makes no sense. This woman has saved his life and tried to heal his wounds and all he can do is stand aside and let this monster do what it wants. Let it kill and feed.
“No,” he screams and reaches into his mind. The beast launches at him, jaws snapping around his frame. They stop.
He holds the huge mouth open with the palms of his hands. It bellows and its stagnant breath washes over him. He does not notice. The construct for the barrier is simple. He only has to think of the shape, a circle with a jagged line through it, to create a wall of air. Now he needs something else. He pushes the wall apart and the lizards head snaps backwards.
Holding the shield shape, he feeds in more power. Using the energy maps from all the goblins around him, he diverts the waves into his hands. The shield grows. The beast clambers back to its feet and stalks towards him. The wall of air shivers in front of him and the ripple can be seen by everyone. The shield begins to collapse. The monster tests the air and finding the wall still there steps away, its tongue lapping out.
The barrier construct on its own is not strong enough to withstand such a massive creature. He has to try something new. He twists the pattern in on itself to create a vortex which begins to spiral and feed by itself. He lets it go to support itself and become larger. He tunes his mind to the elements around him. The trees are too far from him to use so he turns his attention to weaker strands of life. This high up the only things growing are hardy shrubs and vines. The deep green of nature swims across his vision and tunnels into the ever-growing construct. The earth is unnatural to him and unpredictable, though he feeds in the dark brown anyway. The vortex wobbles and threatens to crumble in on itself. He grasps hold of the pattern again and is shocked by the pure devastating energy it contains. Air and light begin to poor into the work unaided and he begins to panic. He is not sure he can hold this much energy and release it safely. It grows bigger and bigger.
He shuts off the vortex and seals it into a bubble. The shield vanishes.
The tongue flicks out.
O’us flinches. It comes at him, roaring its fury. Denied his feeding for so long. Hatred and disgust flood over him and he sees red, anger cascading into his work. He thrusts his arms out and opens his palms.
A ball of light glares into the space between him and the monster. It engulfs everything, spreading out in a wide circle. He closes his eyes and grits his teeth. The monster comes on. The sky tears open and a horrible crack splits the air. O’us is knocked from his feet by the force and lands beside the woman. She drags him into her embrace to protect him. He opens his eyes and stares over her shoulder.
A single bolt of lightning arcs from the tear in the sky and hits the g
round at the feet of the monster. It rears backwards. The ground opens like a huge mouth and the lizard slips inside. A crack spreads across the width of the plateau and in a single ear-splitting second falls away. The beast and the side of the cliff fall into the canyon below.
He lets the woman’s tears fill his mind and drops into her arms.
“It’s fine now,” he says, his voice a distant echo. “Princess It’s fine.”
She leans back from him and a ghost of a smile crosses her face, though her eyes stray past him and she reaches out over his shoulder, plucking a single black feather from his wings. “Pretty,” she says.
Clayton Cr’aig opens his eyes and takes his first look at the new world. Wonder and awe flood through him and he raises his long twig-like fingers to his mouth. It is then that he glances down at his form. His earlier joy is crushed, and horror cascades through his every pore. His feet are a mass of knotted brown vines which try to root themselves into the soil with every step. The skin upon his arms and legs looks more like the bark from an old tree and his joints ache as he steps from the thick wood into a small glen. The morning sun reflects lazily from a pond and Clayton hurries over to it. He drops to his knees which creak and splinter and he cries out in pain. He does not let the pain slow him as he crawls to the water’s edge and peers in.
The world seems to vanish in his hideous reflection and he bursts into floods of tears. His once elegant features are gone and are replaced by harsh jagged edges. Large bulbous brown eyes stare out of a monstrous head. His ears are gone and his mouth is a down-turned grimace. He has no neck, just blubber of moss and vines and his nose is huge and pointy. But it is his skin which brings the tears pouring down his cheeks. Once it had been soft and green like that of a newly uncurled leaf. Now it is coarse and brittle and old.
What have they done? The world must have fallen into hard times if this is the best form he can take. He pushes himself up, nursing his damaged knees, and staggers back into the trees, not wanting any eyes to fall upon him. He must wait for the others before any action can be taken.
The earth must be remade. The first of the Elemental beings has arrived. The world will be reborn.
21
A HOLY GIFT
Maida Zia steps into the sunlight of a glorious Hillsbough afternoon. Birds sing and call from every direction. Crickets in the long grass behind the nurse’s house click noisily and small flies swarm in clouds around her head. A distant whine reaches her from the stables across the hills. There is no human activity to be heard.
The village is deserted. Once news had reached them of the missing boys being found, the village had mobilized and headed for the Flannat Shrine. Once Maida and the injured Tye Slocot had reached the village most of the inhabitants had already left, including his parents.
She still is not sure who had brought the misinformation, but she is glad of it. The shrine will be busy following the Feast of Lights and crowded with the population of the four attending towns. It could take weeks to find the boys if they were there. This knowledge brought Maida some time to prepare her story of where the others had gone if angry faces came her way. The Feast of Lights will begin all across the world in the next few days to celebrate the birth of the Goddess Star and will continue for a week. It is only here in Gressgs that the celebrations start so early. The village is at a greater distance from the shrine than the other villages and towns, so that the population have to embark on the journey earlier. It can take three to four weeks of marching.
Some are always left behind to watch the fields and homes, but they too have departed for the shrine. The bonding will begin in the next week and continues for up to a month. During that time people will begin to drift back to their homes. That is when the questions will begin and the truth will have to come out.
Maida settles into the swinging chair hanging from the roof beams and kicks her shoes off, flexing her toes. It is now five weeks since that dreadful night of ghouls and fire. No bodies had turned up even though she knew Riochald had killed one herself. They had simply vanished.
She clenches her eyes shut and rubs at her temples, a headache threatening. Her health has suffered dramatically. In her entire life she can only remember being ill once and that was following the death of her sister. In the last few weeks she has suffered from headaches, stomach-aches, a fever, vomiting and a bout of diarrhea. The last had been by far the worst experience in her life. She has a renewed sympathy for Darwin’t who has experienced this condition many times in his young life.
The feeling passes and she relaxes into the seat. Her eyes come to rest on the neat little house across the road. It belongs to Sen Mc’duval and his family. They are a family dedicated to medicine and teaching. Sen is a doctor of the old practices. He can mend a broken arm and reduce a fever better than any other man she has ever met. However, his insistence on only using the old methods has meant that more and more people have crossed the road to Riochald’s practice where she now sits. Her use of herbs and tonics can reduce pain and fever better than the old powders and warmed bandages. Maida knows the truth now. It is her. She is more than a herbalist. Maida has witnessed the true healing power behind Riochald. Blackness shimmered over her for a brief moment when she touched Tye. She was unaware of what she had done and Canace had missed the trick. One touch from this energy and Tye had responded. It was only then that the herbs had played their part.
She casts her mind back to when she was a young woman living in Aris near the Ber Woods in Atlant. It is not a big town, yet compared to Gressgs it is a city. Town houses of white stone and cobbled streets make up most of the town. However, it has a darker side. Behind the polished façade of the upper classes are the slums. Dirty streets, murder, rotting gutters and whores at every corner are the trademarks of the slums.
This is where she grew up. Her life in Bann and Dalvistel which the residents of this small country village know of, are all lies. She has visited Bann once or twice on errands and had lived in Dalvistel for one sun before her move to Gressgs, yet that was all. Before that she had been a cut-purse in Aris's largest gang, the Rock Boys. An odd name considering it was run by girls, but then again, that had been the point
It was here on the streets that she had first met the man who had turned her life on its head. He was a handsome man and it was this fact that had led her into his room within the Oak Tree Inn. They had dined on a feast so rich that it had made her sick, yet she could not help herself from eating more. Being a girl from the street she had never tasted anything of the like before.
At first she thought he was a rich lord wanting to hire her for sexual means. However at the end of the meal he thanked her for her company, rewarded her with a silver coin and asked if she would join him again for dinner tomorrow. She had accepted.
She frowns at the memory, as she always does when she remembers the man. She believed that she was in love with him at first. They met a few more times and they got on famously. He had a way of making her feel more than a street girl and did not seem to care that she was. It was on the ninth visit to his room that things had gone wrong. It began like any other meal. They chatted about what she had been up to and the stories he had heard about a certain tattooed man. She felt herself becoming dizzy with passion, and before she knew what she was doing the food had been pushed aside and he had her over the table.
Their lovemaking was a disappointment, however. Just as she was beginning to enjoy herself he had pulled an evil expression and climaxed. Dragging himself from her he regarded her with disdain and started to dress himself. Conversation was attempted; however he would not speak or even look at her.
No more invitations arrived from him and no news of his whereabouts ever reached her. Months passed and she grew fat. Pregnant.
The gang feared for her safety; being with child in the slums often led to the deaths of both mother and child. She was packed off to the healers with two gold and a note from Stewid Newtum asking them to protect her and make sure she was kept s
afe. However, on her way the carriage had been stopped and a dark man entered. His eyes and robes were as black as the night, but his face was soft and handsome. He informed her that the child she carried was the spawn of an evil man and would bring her sadness and grief in her life.
She had not believed him and had asked him to leave her carriage and her alone.
He had done neither.
Instead he reached into her stomach. His fingers clutched the unborn child and pulled it from her. There was no blood or pain, only despair. Black magic had been used and the flesh of the fetus dissolved into a tiny black gem. A glint of something had crossed his eyes then, and he fled from the carriage leaving her sobbing and grief stricken.
Maida glances at her hands and twists the tiny ring on her index finger nervously, an old habit which has returned in the last few weeks. She retreats back into her memories.
She had recognized the robes of the man and even though she feared the Dark Clan she craved revenge more. She stole the horse pulling the carriage and turned it around. For almost a month she traveled across the country, sleeping under trees and eating rabbits and vermin. Finally she reached her destination, Galvalou, the Dark Clan city.
“Maida,” the voice seems so loud in the peacefulness of the village. Her thoughts shatter and she jumps to her feet, drying tears from her cheeks that she did not realize she had shed.
