Wandering Lark (The Demon-Bound Duology)
Page 41
Their mad dash among the narrowing space between the trunks brought them closer to the place where he suspected Fenelon stood. For the blue lights towards which Gareth and Hobbler ran had yet to move off. And just when Gareth thought he had reached a space between the trees through which he could not fit, he stumbled into a clearing. Here, stood a circle of menhirs and capstones, gathered into a henge. And in the middle of it stood his son.
Fenelon held out one hand. Facing him was a creature of blue light, female in appearance, Gareth grimly noticed. She smiled, but there was something almost sinister in that smile. And she reached out to take his son’s hand in return.
“Fenelon, don’t!” Gareth shouted and threw himself into the circle.
The female turned, hissing as she backed away. Her gaze searched the trees for assistance. And just as she reached the edge of the henge, several more of the blue-light figures sprang forward. To Gareth surprise, they were wielding swords.
They’re only light, he told himself. But to his dismay, their blades still cut. He dodged as one of them ripped through his cloak, barely missing his flesh.
“Father!” he heard Fenelon shout.
In his eagerness to avoid the blade, Gareth had fallen. He hit the ground just as Fenelon bolted into the path of the next sword. The creature wielding it shifted its attack. Before Gareth could think to call out a warning, the pommel swung around and hit Fenelon in the side of the head. Fenelon fell, dropping like a stone. With a cry, Gareth lunged over to his son’s side, gathering Fenelon in his arms and trying to shield him from the blue creature’s raised blade.
“We mean you no harm!” Gareth shouted. “We mean you no harm!”
The blue creature stopped and looked towards the edge of the circle. Others were gathering now, closing the way out with their ethereal forms.
“They’re not attacking,” Hobbler said. “Wonder why?”
Gareth did not care why. He touched Fenelon’s throat. His son’s pulse was barely discernable under his fingers.
“No, Fenelon, not now...it’s not your time to go,” Gareth whispered.
The blue folk merely watched him and did nothing as he clung to Fenelon and wondered just what to do now.
Fenelon had expected the blow to hurt as he had rushed to stop them from stealing Gareth’s life. To his surprise, it didn’t hurt at all. Though it knocked him down, there was no pain.
How strange, he thought as he crawled to his feet again.
And froze.
His body was still on the ground. Gareth was gathering Fenelon close.
“But...how...”
“You are Fenelon?” a woman’s voice said in a singsong manner.
Fenelon turned. The creature whose ethereal presence had been holding his attention before now stood before him as solid as a real woman. In fact, the Stone Forest now looked alive. He glanced up and saw sunshine and blue sky.
“Am I dead?” Fenelon asked.
She laughed and glanced at the rows of her companions. They all looked whole and very real. Fenelon could see that they were shorter than average, thin people with luminous blue eyes, black hair and eldritch features. Their clothing was loose and flowing and comfortable looking at a glance. And very thin. He was able to make out more of this winsome lass now standing before him than could make any man comfortable.
“Uh...where am I?” he asked, for as he looked around, Gareth and Hobbler were gone. And he was standing on soft grass on a hillside overlooking a massive forest of green trees.
“You are in the Between,” she said. “This is how it was in the time before.”
“Time before what?”
“Before the Lord of Stone put his Mother’s Curse on us,” she said. “I am Astaleeya, Keeper of the Knowledge.”
“Knowledge of what?” Fenelon ventured.
“Knowledge of what was...and of what will be.”
Fenelon frowned. “What will be?” he asked. “Then...am I dead?”
Astaleeya shook her head, still wearing that infuriating smile. “Not yet,” she said. “But your time will come before it should one day.”
That was certainly not what he wanted to hear. “So where am I...”
“As I said before, you are in the Between.”
“Like where demons go when they gate?” Fenelon asked. “But I thought this place was poisonous to us...”
Astaleeya stepped back. “Poison? Demons?”
“Demons,” Fenelon said. “Ugly shape-shifting, magic wielding, people-eating monsters that live in the Void...”
For a moment, she appeared lost in thought. Then her face lost all tension as she looked at him again. “Youngerkin,” she said. “And Elderkin. The Youngerkin were the result of the Corruption of the Mother of Shadows. Is this what you mean?”
“Yes,” Fenelon said. He wasn’t exactly sure, but it made sense. Demons like Vagner, for instance, were said to have come into being during the age of the Shadow Lords.
Astaleeya shook her head. “No, this is not the place where Youngerkin travel. But this is the place where we dwell until the time of war.”
“Time of war.”
“Come...I will show you.” She turned and started out of the circle of stones. Fenelon hesitated. He was reluctant to stray far from where his body was supposed to be, and if this was just another form of his mage essence traveling outside his flesh, he did not want to forget where his body was. Astaleeya must have known this, for she turned and smiled. “You have naught to fear,” she assured him. “You will be returned to this place...”
Fenelon took a deep breath. “My father will worry,” he said.
“He worries now,” she said. “But we cannot tell him that you are well. We cannot speak to those who are not in the Between. For we are but memory to some, ghosts to others. We guard this place for it holds the Knowledge of the Way Before. And we guard the passage so that none may pass into the World of the Old Way. Come.”
“Garrowye is the World of the Old Way?” Fenelon said and followed as she left the circle.
“Garrowye, no. Taneslaw is the World of the Old Way. Garrowye has lost its way. Its land barely remembers what was once important.”
“And what was important?” Fenelon asked.
“Magic.” She said it in such a way that he shivered. “The life of the land was magic. And now that life is waning. Garrowye’s magic sleeps. Only in Taneslaw does magic live.”
“But magic lives where I come from,” Fenelon said. “There is plenty of magic in Ard-Taebh. In Carn Dubh, even in Ross-Mhor and the Riverwall Kingdoms and...”
Astaleeya stopped and fixed him with a hard stare. “Speak not the names of those lands here, lest the Mother of Shadows hear you. For she would grasp them in her dark claws, rend them and bury them in shadow. There is danger of this at all times...danger that must not be ignored. The Twice-Blooded Twice-Born will set the Mother of Shadows free, and only the Twice-Blooded Once-Born will have the power to summon She Who Sits At the Center of All Things.”
“You’re speaking in riddles,” Fenelon said. “Who is this Twice-Blooded Twice-Born?”
“Blood will beget blood in the circle of time,” Astaleeya said. “And when the circle comes around, blood of darkness will beget the Twice-Blooded Twice Born. Only if the blood of light comes full circle will the Twice-Blooded Once-Born come to past. I have seen this cycle before, and She Who Sits at the Center of All Things and guards the Balance of All Things can only defeat her dark sister if the Balance is threatened.”
“But the Balance is threatened,” Fenelon said. “And I have to get to Garrowye.”
She shook her head. “It is forbidden. The way is closed to all but those who have knowledge of walking through the stones.”
“You don’t understand,” Fenelon said. “A friend of mine has gone there, taken there by one called Ronan Tey and…”
Her voice became a howling wind. “Speak not the Name of the Betrayer!”
“The Betrayer? What do you mean?”
“What did he take?” Fenelon asked, but he had a feeling he already knew. Was it possible Ronan stole the knowledge of the Dragon’s Tongue Key from these creatures? It would explain why he had been so elusive as to his purpose for fleeing this land.
“He took the Soul Stone of the Elderkin,” Astaleeya said.
“Elderkin. You mean a demon? There was a demon in the Soul Stone?” Soul Stones...he had heard of them in some ancient text. “What sort of demon? Why was it there?”
Astaleeya’s expression tightened. “Since you have asked in innocence, I will answer as the Keeper of Knowledge that must not be lost. The Soul Stone was entrusted to my people by She Who Sits at the Center of All Things. When the Betrayer stole it, he set the Elderkin free. This Elderkin was first born of its kind, and most precious to the White One, but it betrayed her by threatening to sunder the Balance of All Things, and so to punish it, she took its life and put it in the soul stone. She took its skin and etched it with the Knowledge that must not be forgotten and gave it to the Stone Folk, but they lost it in a game of chance and its whereabouts is unknown.”
Fenelon held his breath. The demon skin at Dun Gealach! It had to be.
“Its bones,” Astaleeya continued, “She Who Sits at the Center of All Things took and buried among the mountains herself so that none would find them. Its flesh, she devoured that it might never truly be parted from her...”
“And its soul? What happened to the soul of this Elderkin when Ronan set it free?”
“It consumed Ronan Tey. It became Ronan Tey.”
Fenelon felt his knees weaken as a wave of nausea overwhelmed him. He sank to the ground. His heart was thundering in his ears. It was as though something was pulling on him. But his mind continued to mull over what Astaleeya said.
It became Ronan Tey...
Then Ronan Tey is a demon... And poor Alaric is carrying the mark of not one demon, but two.
Fenelon shook his head. “Look, we have to find Ronan Tey. We know he is going back to Garrowye, and he has taken my friend as a hostage, and they had another demon. A Youngerkin.”
Astaleeya’s eyes softened with unshed tears. “Then we are lost,” she said. “The Lord of Stone punished us for losing the Soul Stone. He turned our home into the Stone Forest and covered it with a sky of stone. He charged us in the name of She Who Sits at the Center of All Things to forever guard the path. If the Betrayer has walked through the stones and taken your friend to the Land of the Old Way, then it can only be to do one thing. To take revenge on She Who Sits at the Center of All Things for punishing him.”
“Then you must tell me the way there...” Fenelon felt the pull again. Like something trying to drag him into the ground. He fought it, not willing to leave yet.
“Do you not understand?” Astaleeya said, her fierce nature returning. “You cannot know the way for the way no longer exists. That was the curse of the Lord of Stone. He closed the way with our forest. None may pass who does not know the way to Walk Through the Stones. Those who come to this Forest are doomed to wander through the trees for an eternity, never find their way. Now, you must return to your flesh. You and yours must go back to your own land before the Forest of Stone claims you. Your very presence here heralds the beginning of the end. For it was told to us by She Who Sits at the Center of All Things that when strangers of another land came, the Circle of the World was on the verge of turning. The Twice-Blooded Once-Born will be born in a foreign place while the Twice-Blooded Twice-Born will bathe your land in blood... GO!”
“What? Wait, I have more questions!” Fenelon begged, but he was feeling so weak and unable to rise. His consciousness slipped into darkness that folded around him like warm blankets. No, no, I can’t leave yet! How could he convince this creature that he had to know the way?
“Fenelon! Open your eyes! Fenelon, please, son, open your eyes!”
That was Gareth’s voice, and the urgency was enough to make Fenelon obey. His head hurt, and his body felt weighty as though he had been floating in water for a long time and just crawled up onto land. Pale lights—lanterns and foxfire—slowly filled his vision, and with it, a worried expression on his father’s looming face.
“He’s all right,” Gareth said softly. “Hobbler, he’s alive.”
“Alive is a matter of opinion,” Fenelon mumbled. “My head feels like I’ve been kicked by a horse.”
Gareth helped Fenelon sit up.
“What happened to the blue people?” Hobbler suddenly said.
Gareth looked up. “They’re gone.”
“No, they’re still here, but they have done what they are supposed to do,” Fenelon said carefully. His own voice was thunder inside his aching head.
“What are you blethering about?” Gareth asked.
“Let’s go back to the inn,” Fenelon said.
“What? But we haven’t found our way to Garrowye yet.”
“And we won’t,” Fenelon said. “The way is closed unless we know how to walk through stone. The tunnel that brought the Haxons and the Stone Folk into our world has been buried under us for all time. That is what the Stone Forest and its Hidden Folk are guarding. The passage no longer exists, and this forest is nothing but a trap for the unwary...”
“You spoke to them?” Gareth said. “How...what did they say.”
“I’ll tell you when my head stops hurting. Let’s get out of here while we still can.”
“Are you sure you can make it?” Gareth asked. He helped Fenelon off the ground.
“I don’t have much of a choice,” Fenelon said. He started to take a step, but his head betrayed him. Before he could tumble to the ground, Gareth was there, pulling an arm around Fenelon’s waist and offering the support of a shoulder.
Fenelon smiled. It had been many years since he had leaned on his father for any reason. “Thanks,” he said.
Gareth merely nodded. “Perhaps once we get out of the Stone Forest, we can rest a spell and you can sleep off the headache. If we can’t go on, we might as well take our time going back.”
Fenelon was grateful for that. With a little maneuvering, they found the path and followed it out of The Stone Forest. Once they were well away from its borders, Gareth called for a halt. Fenelon was relieved for a chance to lie down and take a rest.
SIXTY-TWO
Culann had led Alaric to the Queen’s quarters once they were both bathed and dressed. There, they found a bevy of women sitting around the Queen, and next to her on the pillows was none other than Talena. She looked quite happy in Alaric’s opinion.
At the sight of the men, her demeanor changed. She pulled herself away from the Queen and glowered at the King. Culann merely crossed the room and kissed his wife without a hint of shame. Alaric looked aside, only to realize Talena looked aside too. Clearly neither of them was “comfortable” with the affectionate display, especially since it seemed to be moving into a more serious range.
With a sigh, Alaric walked around to where Talena stood.
“So, how are they treating you?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Well enough, I suppose. They’ve not used torture, if that’s what you mean, unless you count scaring the wits out of me by telling me the truth about what I am. And that old harridan is a lot stronger than she seems.” She gestured toward one of the women who stood close by, hands clasped before her, eyes narrowed suspiciously on both Talena and Alaric. “She knocked me flat on my back.”
Alaric glanced at the woman with renewed respect. She ignored him and stepped forward to look at Talena.
“It is time for you to return to the tower,” she said. “The White One orders it. You and she still have matters to discuss.”
Alaric frowned. “You’ve seen the White One?”
&
nbsp; “I guess,” Talena said. “This really tall white-skinned woman with a dragon torc visited me last night and told me that my cousin Desura was, well, she died.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Alaric said.
Talena shrugged. “It seems a waste. She tried to do what you told me all heretics did to draw power...”
“How did she know about that?” Alaric asked.
Talena looked sheepish. “I told her. That night we were in the tower of the Raveners, I told her what you said... I thought it would help her to live longer... But she apparently did not understand—or maybe I did not explain it as well. But she tried to do what all these people and your own knew to do when it came to using power...and she died.”
Her face tensed with bridled grief. Alaric wanted to take her in his arms and offer comfort, but before he could put the thought to use, the matronly-mannered woman cleared her throat.
“Come,” the woman said strongly. “It is time for you to return to your tower.”
To Alaric’s surprise, Talena nodded and even allowed herself to be herded away by the woman. That left him standing in the middle of the Queen’s chambers, wondering if it was safe to turn around. Cautiously, he glanced over his shoulder. The king and his queen had moved out of sight. There were only women in armor—warriors by their stance—remaining. And some of the serving women who did not leave with Talena and the other woman.
“Well,” he muttered. “What now?”
Unsure of what else to do, he wandered out of the queen’s quarters, following the path he vaguely remembered being led on by Culann. That took him out on a bridge between the towers. He stood there, taking in the view when he saw a shadow pass overhead. Looking up, he spied Vagner. The demon circled just outside the towers.