by Cully Mack
They’d been moving for some time when flattened marsh reeds cut out a pathway and he retraced his steps down to the river. The small fishing boat, to his relief, still bobbed on the marshy water.
‘Hurry,’ he said, as he picked up two oars.
He rowed to the far side of the river and let the current draw them downstream. Often, between the currents distractions, he chanced glances at Mirah aware he still showed no sign of relief she’d come. The others sat with hesitant expressions waiting to ask for news of Barakel.
‘Damn,’ he muttered as they rounded a bend in the river to find a sizeable barge, heavy laden with cedar rowing towards them. ‘Quick, hide yourselves under there,’ he said and pointed to a fish net in the middle of the boat. He lay his cloak over them, shielding them as best as he could.
‘Do you think they will see us?’ Abela whispered.
‘You don’t need to worry about them,’ he reassured her. ‘It’s who they might tell if you’re seen.’ He listened to their shallow breaths as the barge passed. Without their eyes upon him, he relayed their deepest fears. ‘No one except Tam remained alive at Barakel.’
Some might have accused him of being a coward but Ayla’s gentle voice broke the silence. She offered nothing other than appreciation when she said, ‘Thank you.’
When the barge was a safe distance away, he searched up and down the river. ‘You can come out now. The river is clear.’
A fishy odour wafted towards him. If it were not for the seriousness of the situation, he’d have bellowed a laugh.
Their hair clung to their perspiring foreheads, and they were tangled in netting entwined around them.
He watched as Mirah unknotted fish net from her ankle. All he wanted was to speak to her alone.
❊ 27 ❊
They reached a small encampment sheltered in a wood the following evening. An old man with bushy eyebrows and a matching silver-white beard leaned over a fire pot stirring an aromatic stew. Mirah thought he appeared more troubled with the concoction brewing than their hurried breach through the tree line.
Next to him sat a woman with a crossbow in her lap. She had glorious long black hair flowing to her waist and the most unusual lavender coloured eyes. She looked to be around thirty without a blemish on her pale skin.
Gabe gestured with his hand and said, ‘This is Meciel and Bina.’
‘I’m overjoyed you joined us,’ Meciel said, his voice deep and round. He glanced up at Gabe with a slight hint of reverence.
‘This is my sister, Mirah and our friends, Neviah, Abela and Ayla.’
‘Come, you must be hungry,’ Meciel said. ‘I’ve made a stew. I hope you like it. It’s my secret recipe.’
Gabe and Bina groaned simultaneously.
‘Say you love the food,’ Bina said, ‘or we’ll never hear the end of it.’
The long journey and the warmth of the stew lulled them into sluggish silence.
When they’d finished, Gabe delved into a sack pulling out ragged cloaks and shared them around. He dug deeper and gave sets of leather pants and and long sleeved tunics to Abela and Ayla. ‘I have others if you prefer them?’ he asked, glancing at Mirah and Neviah.
They both declined favouring their Taphas clothing.
Gabe shrugged. ‘Rest. We don’t have much time before we need to be moving.’ Facing Mirah he said, ‘I’m glad you’re here.’
She had so much to ask him. She still hadn’t told Neviah about wielding but she knew that to do so she needed to speak to her alone. Too exhausted for anything else, she slipped the ring from her finger, tucked it into her boot and watched Gabe until her eyes drifted.
She caught the sulphur scent before she saw the Beast’s haunting apparition and the matted fur flinching over its wide chest. It rose on its hind legs. The sound of its pointy snout sniffing out her scent made her recoil. She ducked behind a conifer. Was she at the lake? Saliva dripped from its sharp fangs.
Come back. You are mistaken. Let me show you.
The Beast’s head snapped in her direction. Its nostrils flaring.
Mirah ran. Thudding footsteps and claws scraping against the rocks behind her. On and on she raced, thick ferns whipping her legs, slowing her down. The distance between them shortening. The wisps of her hair sticking to perspiration on her skin. She couldn’t outrun it. Long hooked claws ripped into her shoulder when the Beast lunged, knocking her to the ground.
Mirah screamed.
Gabe shook her shoulder. ‘It’s just a nightmare.’
She peered into the darkness and made out a few concerned faces. The Beast knew she was fleeing. She stared at Gabe’s agonised face. ‘We need to go. Now.’
He didn’t hesitate, didn’t try to reassure her it wasn’t real.
The moon sat low in the sky, providing enough light for them to see a few paces ahead. They travelled west away from the river. If she’d known where they were going she’d have gone onward and quickened their pace.
Slowing to a halt, Gabe said, ‘Wait here. There is a village up ahead. We don’t have time to circle it.’
Bina shot off. She assumed to check the perimeter.
‘How much further?’ Neviah asked Gabe.
‘After we reach the other side of the village, it’s a two-week journey to our ship. We would have come up the river, but we assumed they’d have lookouts. Crossing land is the safest option.’
‘How on earth did you find us?’ Ayla asked.
‘I found a sword abandoned on the beach. The sword belonged to a Nephilim, someone called Bishnor. Meciel told me about Shemyaza.’
Bina returned, her hand waving them forward.
They crept over the dusty ground. Small dark, round mud huts rose like omens ahead of them. Their inhabitants enticed into slumber. They made their way through the village without a sound.
After trekking some distance, the sun rose from behind. The landscape changing into dusty plains. The warm pink sky spread over the horizon as far as Mirah could see. They had no ground cover, or food, the water skin Gabe held was nearly empty.
She could feel the ring pressing against her shin. Would dehydration force her to wield water?
On the skyline, a dark shadow flew towards them.
‘What is that?’ Mirah asked.
Gabe lifted his hand, shielding his eyes against the sunlight. ‘Don’t be frightened. This is Terra. She may appear beastly but she isn’t.’
Terra glided to the ground. Gabe reached up and stroked her leathery shoulder. She dipped her head, nuzzling him with her snout, pushing him backwards. Above warm golden eyes, a maroon crest sat like a crown. Terra snorted and Mirah and the others took an instinctive step back.
‘He had the same reaction,’ Meciel confided. ‘It took him weeks to get to know her. I’m sure it won’t take you girls as long,’ he challenged.
As the heat of the day rose, Terra soared above them, circling and wafting small gusty breezes as she passed.
‘Terra,’ Meciel call out.
She descended, cocked her head to the side as though she were listening, then lifted into the air and flew away. Up ahead a small formation of rocks protruded from the ground.
Gabe surveyed the hazy horizon. Satisfied they weren’t being followed, he said, ‘Take a rest.’
Terra returned and dropped a whole sweet lemon tree with the roots still attached.
‘She’s a good hunter,’ Meciel said.
‘I’m glad she is,’ Gabe said, picking lemons off the branches and passing them around. ‘If she wasn’t we’d be dead by now.’
Sweet lemons replenished their thirst as they sucked out their juicy moisture, one after another.
‘It’s not safe here. We’re too out in the open,’ Gabe said, rising from the rock.
They followed his leading. Bina and Gabe at the front and Meciel following at their rear.
Mirah fell back next to Meciel. ‘How come Gabe appears in charge?’
‘He’s not the boy you once knew,’ Meciel answe
red, whilst adjusting the sleeves on his grey robes. ‘He’s had a difficult journey. One that has changed him.’ His attention turned to tightening his belt and when satisfied, he continued, ‘He hasn’t said much. He’s too focused on getting you all to safety.’ He looked at her with sympathy. ‘Give him time to adjust.’
She was about to walk over to the others when Meciel’s hand graced her arm. With immeasurable wisdom, he said, ‘If you allow pain to burrow deep enough it will grow roots.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘It’s all right to grieve for him, you know.’
The gentle reassurance in his voice soothed her. He gave no judgement, just the offer of a listening ear if needed. She wondered if he sang if he’d sound like the Fallen Star.
‘You remind me of someone.’
Meciel raised one of his bushy eyebrows and the lines on his brow deepened.
‘I don’t know his name but your voice and the way he sang… We called him the Fallen Star.’
Meciel let out a low chuckle. ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me even over there, he always sought the drama.’
Mirah’s jaw dropped. ‘Does Gabe know where you come from?’
‘He knows I’m different, but he’s been too fixated on finding you. It’s the only thing he’s thought about. Maybe soon I will explain but not yet. I’ve been waiting for a chance to ask you, six of you were taken. Where are the others?’
‘How do you know about that?’
‘I was there but didn’t reach you in time.’
‘If you had, they would have executed you.’
‘Maybe, maybe not.’
Mirah watched as the others walked ahead, it wasn’t only Huldah and Dara who were missing but now the heavy weight of Eran as well.
‘We tried to escape and one of Shemyaza’s monsters killed Huldah. They took Dara to the Chashmalim.’
Meciel closed his eyes and folded his hands together covering his mouth. When he opened them he glanced at the white band of flesh around her finger.
‘You should tell Nev about her amulet soon.’
‘We need to be further away from Hermonial. She has a wicked temper. If anyone is following us, they’d hear her scream.’
❊ 28 ❊
An abundance of lightheaded women leaving the Diatheatre parted before him as Nate bounded down the steps towards the Fallen Star.
They’d met before, Nate had sought him out after Mirah revealed her fascination with his singing. He’d been around gods long enough to know the Fallen Star was no ordinary singer. The power veiled behind his eyes was immortal.
Nate considered him an ally after the Fallen Star confessed his intentions and divulged where he came from.
‘I need you to speak to Mirah. She’s hurting. She won’t talk to me. She won’t let me explain.’ His words tumbled from him. Urgent. He didn’t care.
‘I warned you nothing stays hidden forever. You didn’t listen and now you’re too late. Her brother, the one chosen by the Cloud Rider, he came for her.’
The world folded, crushing him. ‘Which way did she go?’
‘She left by the brook bordering the old quarter.’
Nate turned to flee.
The Fallen Star called after him. ‘He has an army and a power like thunder. You will require leverage.’
Nate bolted up the steps. He didn’t slow until reaching the mountain.
‘Where’s Zeev?’ he snapped at the closest sparring guards.
An upright guardsman pointed his sword over to the barracks.
Zeev jumped up when Nate burst through the door, his eyes widening before regaining his composure. Nate jerked his head gesturing for him to follow.
‘What’s going on?’, he asked, as Nate halted in the courtyard away from listening ears.
‘Mirah, she’s gone. Can you check on Neviah, see if she’s still here? She might know something. I’m going to find Galia and Arella. Meet me here as soon as you can.’
Zeev returned a short while later shaking his head at Nate and the others waiting in the courtyard. Neviah leaving hadn’t surprise him.
He led them over to a weapons storeroom and asked Arella to keep watch by the door. Zeev swept dust off one of the crates and perched against it whilst Nate fought the urge to race straight to the old quarter knowing his delay widened the distance between them.
‘I’m going after her but I need your assistance before I leave.’
‘Nate,’ Galia urged. ‘You should let her go. Why bring them back, just to be trapped here with the rest of us. At least they have a chance at freedom.’
‘Do you really think Shemyaza will allow her to leave, knowing what she can do? Besides, I’m not bringing her back.’ He exhaled a weighty breath. ‘Do you remember the prophecy about men gathering under thunder? In Anat, I learned that thunder is the Cloud Rider’s chosen one. It’s Mirah’s brother. This is our chance. He could defeat Shemyaza.’
Zeev picked at splinters on the crate. ‘I don’t believe in old fables. Who the bidu is the Cloud Rider anyway? We’ve never even see him.’
‘Zeev,’ Nate barked. ‘I lack leverage. The Fallen Star said Mirah’s brother has an army. The lad Mirah saved is under the mountain, his name is Eran. I need you to help me get him out.’
‘Wasn’t all her family dead? What army?’ Zeev asked.
Nate rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I don’t know any more than that.’
‘You’re not coming back, are you?’ Galia accused, as she weighed up his intentions.
Nate nodded in affirmation.
‘Then, I’ll come with you,’ she declared.
He dipped his head in appreciation before turning to Arella.
She turned from the doorway. ‘Zeev should go with you. I’ll keep Sumer safe.’
Shifting off the crate, Zeev asked, ‘What’s your plan?’
‘I want you to change the guard rotations and clear the route down through the mountain, keep them distracted long enough for us to get Eran. Galia, can you gather supplies and our weapons? Meet us by the brook past the old quarter. Arella you stay with me.’
Zeev went to leave but hesitated.
‘Go,’ Arella said. ‘I won’t let any harm befall your mother, I promise.’
After Galia and Zeev left, Nate said, ‘I don’t trust Shemyaza not to come after you or Sumer after we’ve gone.’
‘I’ll take her to Anat.’
‘You heard what Danel said when we were in Anat?’ he asked surprised.
She gave a half shrug. ‘No, but by your blanched face, I knew he’d revealed something. Hopefully, I can find some supporters still there.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, as he moved closer to the door. ‘Let’s do this.’
They entered the chasm and darted into the tunnel leading into the bowels of the mountain. Moisture slid down glossy, green algae walls dripping into deep cut channels on either side of the pathway. The only sound was the collected water trickling past them towards one of the pools in the gardens.
At intervals between shadow and darkness, someone had fixed small burning torches to the walls. Arella smothered their flames as they passed.
The tunnel sloped and spiralled downwards, deeper under the mountain. The further they travelled the cooler it became. When they reached the bottom, it opened into a small circular chamber. They stood listening, neither daring to speak. Nate circled the chamber, pausing at each entrance. One, he knew led to another exit but of the three remaining, which one?
‘If you don’t tell me who else survived at Barakel,’ a voice growled out of the darkness, ‘I’ll break your other arm and then hack off your fingers, one by one until you do.’
Nate rested his hand over his dagger sheathed at his side. He hoped Zeev had removed the guards stationed in the tunnel.
‘I was knocked unconscious,’ an inflamed voice protested. ‘When I came around everyone was dead.’
Nate and Arella halted outside the cell. He listened to the sounds coming from within and aft
er detecting their positions he nudged Arella’s hand and opened the door.
Dank musty air engulfed him mixed with sweat and torture. A hulking brute of a man had Eran prostrate on the floor with Eran’s arm twisted over a rusted anvil. Nate recognised the guard by the scar above his ginger eyebrow but hadn’t known he’d allied with Bishnor.
In three paces he towered over the stooping guard. ‘I need to speak to the prisoner.’
The guard dug his knee deeper in-between Eran’s shoulders and gripped tighter on Eran’s arm.
‘That’s an order,’ Nate growled.
Without his focus straying the guard lifted his knee.
‘As you—’
He never got the last words out. He doubled over choking, clutching his throat searching for the air he’d never find. Then keeled over, dead.
Chains clinked as Nate loosed Eran’s shackles.
‘Mirah sends her blessing,’ he said, hoping the lad wouldn’t put up a fight.
They left the cell and crept back to the chamber.
Arella unhooked one of the torches. ‘Not that she needs it but look after Galia.’ She swept over to Nate, rose on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. ‘This is not goodbye,’ she whispered, and with the torchlight illuminating the slippery green tunnel roof, she left.
Nate ignored Eran’s quick evaluation, and said, ‘Lets go and stay quiet.’
Zeev and Galia were sheltering within the cedar’s cooling shadows when they reached the brook. He hadn’t explained to Eran, who they were or where they were taking him. Eran, to his credit, held his broken arm, kept moving and didn’t ask. Nate figured he’d weighed up his options and with the mention of Mirah decided to stick around. For his silence, Nate was grateful because talking would slow them down.
Zeev pointed to footprints in the ground. ‘By the look of them, there are four females and a male.’
Nate guessed the other tracks were Abela and Ayla but it surprised him that Mirah’s brother came alone. He set a fast pace through the marsh reeds whipping at his legs until the tracks ended by the river edge.
