She wouldn’t. Somehow, he knew it. She wasn’t the type to blame him for something he couldn’t control.
In the silence of darkness come
Ransom light to bring him home
Troubled soul who knows it well
Tread the steps of upward swell
Find the pithion in his lair
Bring the Reader to reckon
He hated that poem. The first and last two lines didn’t rhyme. Why had it come to mind now? Yes, he had been reciting other passages from Fortress of the Deep. Maybe that was why.
He followed his feet upward, ever upward. Where were they going? To find reclusive comfort? Perhaps. There was safety in loneliness. A light flickered in front of his face. A firefly! In this cold? Poor creature. He reached a hand out to snag it, but it flew away. Floating. His feet raced to follow.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Graissa del’Blyth
“Graissa!”
She bolted upright, grasping for her cloak covering her against the cold of the carriage. Vivian grunted and straightened beside her.
Moriah’s face filled her vision, wide eyes glowing with worry. “Graissa, Gerard is gone.”
She was fully awake now. Gone? “What do you mean, gone?”
“His tracks lead away into the mountain.” Moriah slipped out of the carriage. Graissa sat up and followed, Vivian on her heels.
The morning light was hidden by a layer of mist encircling the camp. The driver, Jonas, had a small fire going, water set to boil. A thin marsh rabbit was skinned and spitted beside the water pot. Jonas looked up from the fire as they approached.
“You didn’t hear anything?” Vivian’s tone was calm but firm.
“No’m. That crazy man moves light as a dove, quiet as a fox, as m’mother used t’say.” Jonas narrowed his eyes. “Can’t y’just cast a spell and find’m?”
Vivian shook her head. “Some could. But I don’t know that particular enchantment.”
“Let me try.” Graissa tried to push down the weight that seemed to cling to her. Gerard was strange, yes, but she had a certain fondness for him and held an amount of responsibility for his well-being. She had been the one to bring him on this journey.
Vivian nodded and Graissa opened to the Deep. The minds of Moriah, Jonas, and Vivian clouded her consciousness, their thoughts a hum in her head. Jonas’ was unfamiliar, but Vivian and Moriah were almost as comforting as her own. She cast outward, searching. If Gerard was there, she would find him. Since she had Read him before, he would seem familiar, too. But the further she cast, the lighter the enchantment grew, until it trickled away about two miles out.
The hum grew louder as the Deep encountered other sentient creatures. A rabbit skittered into a burrow. Insects crawled in the dirt or flew in the air. Birds congregated in trees or searched the skies. A deer led her young to water.
Graissa reveled in their existence. Euphoria seeped into her soul, joy and happiness mixed together into a blend that combined both distinct awareness and blissful mindlessness. It was unlike anything she had encountered.
“Any luck?” Jonas’ voice shattered the moment. His words seemed incredibly loud to her ears, as if he was polluting a sanctuary where only awareness and silence were welcome.
“No.” She let go of the Deep. Longing clutched at her as soon as it trickled away. Oh, to be able to lose herself in that bliss! But there was too much at stake. The sphere needed her. Gerard, especially.
“What now?” Moriah gazed about with worry, searching into the mist as if he would appear at their sides. “We can’t just leave him.”
“There is nothing else for it. We must search.” Vivian ran a hand through her hair, brow lined with fatigue. Her knee-length hair blew in a breeze falling from the north. Graissa pulled her cloak tighter around herself.
“Two should stay, two should go.” Moriah frowned at the fire. “Who is the best at tracking?”
They all looked to Jonas. His eyes widened. “What?”
“You found the rabbit. Can you track a man, too?” Vivian’s tone was apprehensive, as if she wished there were another option.
“Well,” he drawled, leaning back on his haunches. “I’m only being paid to –”
“Money is no concern. Just find him.” Graissa waved a hand. “Come, you and I will go.”
A small hand crept into hers. She glanced down at Cackle’s large, red, expressive eyes. He appeared worried. Maybe he had grown fond of Gerard, too. She squeezed and then dropped his claw.
Moriah and Vivian didn’t look happy. But what other options were there?
***
The mist dissipated as the morning wore on. Jonas kept a keen eye on the ground as Graissa followed behind, at his mercy. He seemed harmless enough, but one could never be too careful.
Every so often he would exclaim about another track. A pressing down of grass, an overturned rock, or a cracked tree branch. Things she never would have noticed.
“How fresh are they?” She wiped a hand across her brow. Although it was cold, sweat had broken out across her body. Nervousness? Perhaps. She wasn’t used to physical travel like this. She was going to wring Gerard’s neck when she found him.
“Not more’n a coupla hours.”
“Hours!” She stopped and placed her hands on her hips, pulling air into her lungs. The bitter cold stung her chest.
“I’m not sure. Justa guess.” He paused and appraised her with a glint in his eye. “You were th’one who wanted t’find ‘im.” He pulled a skin of water off his belt and threw back his head to drink. Some water dribbled down the stubble on his chin.
“I know, I know.” She pulled out her own water skin and took a swig. It, too, was painfully cold. It wouldn’t be long before the Lands were blanketed in snow and ice. What had she been thinking, bringing Gerard? But she knew, didn’t she? He was indispensable. At least, his memory was. If she was to find the pithion, she would need him.
Cackle snickered and pointed. She followed his finger to a trail, almost unnoticeable, to their left. He glanced at her, nodded, and started toward it.
“What about that way?” Graissa waved a hand toward the trail.
“Just a game trail. Deer, prob’ly.”
“Does our trail lead that way?”
“No. Th’tracks are thata way.” He put the skin back on his belt, stretched, and then struck back off.
She glanced back where Cackle had disappeared before shaking her head. What, she was going to take the word of a demon over a real, live, human being? She followed Jonas, tying up her hair in a bun to keep it off her neck. The cold trickled down her spine, but at least her curls wouldn’t interfere with her sight.
The trail was sparser the farther they got from camp. Jonas started mumbling, and before long, he slumped. “It’s gone. Disappeared, as if ‘e walked through a door inta another wood.”
“You lost the trail?” She was complaining, her tone plaintive. Not becoming of a hero from legend, but still. This was just too much.
“’tis what I said!” Jonas sat down on his rump, legs crossed. He placed his face in his hand as if embarrassed. “M’ma would be thwacking me right ‘bout now.”
Creator, what was she going to do? She sighed and looked about. There had to be something she could do. Maybe try to find him through Reading again? Or go back to the trail Cackle had found?
There was nothing else for it. “Come, get up. We go back to the game trail.”
“Why? There was nuthin’ –”
She didn’t wait but strode away before Jonas even finished. With a muffled curse he followed, tramping behind her. It didn’t take long to find it. Of course, there was no sign Cackle had been there. But various animal tracks that even she could identify ran through it. Deer, pigs, foxes... and something much larger. A bear? A sliver of foreboding shot down her spine. But Cackle had been certain, and there was nothing else to do but trust him.
“If e’d been this way we would see his tracks,” Jonas grumbled. “T
here’s no sign of ‘im. Damn creep.”
“Don’t call him that.” Graissa kept her eyes on the trail, half-heartedly reprimanding Jonas. Where, indeed, was he? Jonas had a point.
The game trail climbed upward and disappeared altogether when the mist pressed in close. It was as if a thick wall waited, daring them to enter. She stopped, and Jonas brushed by her to extend a hand to the wall.
“Never seen anythin’ like this afore.” His hand disappeared into the mist, as if it never existed. Something was familiar about it. The feel of it, the silence. She glanced about, and there, lying to the side was a wooden sign.
Curved script she recognized but couldn’t read was etched into the frame. Brailison.
There was no mistaking it. She had seen it before, miles and miles away, when she had first left the Broken Lands. Yet here it was, in a different place, meeting her right when she had been searching for it. Although the legend was it only appeared once, clearly she was an exception.
“Jonas, go back to the others and tell them I will return when I can.” The command came out smooth and calm, in stark contrast to the racing of her heart.
“But I can’t jest leave you.” Jonas withdrew his hand and looked at it as if he expected it to appear different. He raised his eyes to her. “That Mool girl-thing will kill me.”
“Not if you tell her I found Brailison.”
His eyes widened, and he took a hasty step back, staring at the mist wall with undisguised fear. “You be jokin’.”
“I’m not. Go back. Tell them to wait for me.” Then, before her courage fled, she stepped into the mist. It closed around her, shutting off her senses. Jonas’ reply was lost, cut off as if he had been sucked away.
Voices filtered through the silence. The languages were whispered, Common, Sway, and Greigan mixed with others she couldn’t recognize. What was this? She took hesitant steps forward, arms extended. A sweltering heat pressed down on her, contrary to the cold from moments before. Another step. Creator, this better be the right way, or she could fall off some cliff she couldn’t see.
The mist swirled as the voices intensified. She could now make out some of what it was saying in Common.
“Come inside and see the light.”
“None may dare to find the source.”
“Go back. Go far. Go near. Climb. Must keep climbing.”
It made no sense. She waved her hand forward, straining to touch something, anything. Dread filled her, reaching ice cold fingers into her skull. Would she get lost forever in here? This is what she got for being so impetuous. Damn her curiosity! Always getting her into trouble. Shia would kill her.
The mist disappeared as soon as it had come. She stepped through the other side, nearly stumbling in her haste to get away. Ahead, Cackle turned to look back at her from where he was climbing a hill. His eyes lit up as if he were happy to see her, grinning with his slobbering mouth. With a jerk of his head, he bounced on. The trail picked back up, headed for the summit.
She hastened to follow, excitement filling her. This must be it. The pithion waited ahead. But what could she tell it? She hadn’t found the lifekey he needed to turn back to flesh. How would he respond? Last time, he had been erratic at best, scary at worst.
But Brailison had found her. Again. That must mean something. And if truth had it, this had never happened to another Reader in any other Time. She was somehow unique.
She pulled herself up the lip of the hill. There in a patch of sunlight the pithion stood. Cackle grinned and ran forward, running a hand down the stone back. Why was he so excited, after all? He had been afraid, last time. Maybe he sensed something different? The pithion was still, carved from stone. The front half of its body and face was an eagle, with wings pressed against its sides. The back half was a lion, complete with a barely twitching tail.
She moved around to face it head on. What had awakened it last time? It had been just her presence.
The pithion stirred. It was odd, stone moving as if made of flesh. Yet it did, rippling and shaking until the pithion moved from its place and shook its head. She stepped back, giving it some space.
It swiveled its head from side to side before resting its gaze on her. “Little Reader.” It’s deep, rumbling voice echoed in the mist. “You awaken me again. How odd.”
“I’m sorry,” Graissa said, heart thumping in her breast. She gripped her hands together, palms clammy.
“I assume you brought me the demon’s lifekey, but I do not see evidence of it. You have failed.” It sat back on its haunches, glaring down at her. “Yet there is a reason you have come to me again.” It raised its eyes to look over her head out into the mist blanketing the knoll on which they stood. If it hadn’t been for the mist, the view would probably have been fantastic. Graissa stopped herself from turning to look. Best to keep her eye on the beast.
“To be honest, I was hoping you could help me.”
It snorted, almost like a laugh. “How delightfully unsurprising. The Readers always need me.” It looked down at her again. “Tell me, how exactly do you think you can force me to help you?
“Not force you.” She took a step back, steeling herself. “Asking.”
It seemed to consider her words, gazing in silence at her face. “I believe you,” it eventually replied. “There is no deceit within your tone or upon your countenance.”
“Will you, then?” Her heart sped up. Could it be true? Could it be convinced of the urgency of the situation? “Surely the Rift being closed would benefit you.”
It stood and slowly walked around her, pacing and flicking its tail. She held still, willing her fear to cease its frantic clawing in her chest. She wouldn’t be afraid. She wouldn’t fail again. There had to be a reason she was able to find Brailison, and surely it would present itself. It had to.
“The benefit lies to man, not to me.” It continued its circling, gaze ever on her face. She remained silent. What other argument could she use?
A strange call echoed in the expanse above them, then the beating of wings followed by a snort. Another pithion? She shot her gaze to the sky, but the mist blocked her vision. The fear surged forward, threatening to overtake her body. Limbs and lips tingling, she darted for the wall of mist where she had first entered the knoll.
A large, white streak blurred in the corner of her eye. She tried to run faster, but the pithion’s wing slammed down in front of her. She almost rammed into it, skidding to a stop.
Another snort to her right. She gathered her courage and turned.
A unicorn stood in the knoll. Surely, she was seeing things. A unicorn? They were long extinct. She rubbed her eyes, taking another step back. The pithion removed its wing from her path and stepped up beside her. “You found the lifekey after all, little Reader?”
“I’m not –” she stopped, words escaping her. The unicorn shook its mane and stamped its hoof. It wasn’t full grown, that much she could tell. A female, whose glistening hide was streaked with sweat, the horn in the center of her forehead a brilliant gold. She pranced forward, stopping before Graissa. Heart pounding, Graissa reached a hand for her nose. It was soft, nostrils flaring.
“Mistress.” Graissa started, whirling around. Gerard stepped out of the mist wringing his hands, eyes on the ground. “I... I’m sorry. My feet, they just wouldn’t stay still.”
The unicorn snorted and pranced away to bend her neck to graze. The pithion stood rooted, and for a moment it seemed as if it had turned back into stone. But it twitched, blinking stone eyes.
“You scared me,” Graissa said, hand on her chest, looking at Gerard with compassion. He appeared so miserable and contrite, it was hard to muster any anger at him any longer.
“I did not mean to. But I thought that, well, maybe the compelling was for a purpose. And look,” he gestured to the unicorn and pithion. “It is as Fortress of the Deep said it would be.”
“What do you mean?” She turned to gaze at the unicorn again. She was beautiful, the mist wreathing her form and f
loating around her like a mirage.
“Don’t you see? The lifekey has been found.”
Could it be true? Graissa frowned and turned back to him. “Where did she come from?”
“The unicorn? I would imagine—“
“Enough!” the pithion snapped, turning its head to glare at them. “How do you get the lifekey from her and give it to me?”
The unicorn raised her head, crimson gaze flaring to life. An uneasy feeling invaded Graissa’s optimism. How indeed? The unicorn didn’t appear too pleased at the moment. She pawed the ground with her foreleg before shaking her mane. If she was truly possessed by a demon’s essence, taking it couldn’t be all that easy.
“Any ideas?” Graissa asked Gerard, voice shaking.
He shrugged, eyes darting about the knoll, never resting. “Well, yes, but it will not be easy.”
“The book tells you how?” She raised a hand to his arm. He flinched but didn’t pull away. “Please, Gerard. We need to do it.”
“I haven’t cast an enchantment like that in...” he stopped, eyes flicking to the unicorn. “Fifteen years, forty minutes, and eighteen, nineteen—"
“You can do it, then?” Hope flared in her as a beacon in a storm. She tightened her grip on his arm.
“Well, give me a minute.” He shuffled away from her, muttering under his breath. Graissa turned back to the unicorn as she nibbled once more at the grass.
The pithion watched Gerard with its head cocked to the side. “The strange man is an accessor?”
Graissa stifled a laugh. “Give him time.” She glanced at Gerard, who paced the knoll and wrung his hands. It was as if he were arguing with himself. Hopefully this would work out. Otherwise, what was she going to do with a unicorn, a crazy accessor, a figment of her imagination that looked like a demon, and a stone beast that was unpredictable at best, scary at worst?
Several minutes passed and she stifled growing impatience. Biting her lip, she relaxed her shoulders and forced her hands to stop clenching her dress. A breeze blew about them, ruffling her hair and sending the mist swirling. The echoes of the voices in the mist penetrated the knoll before swirling away with the wind.
The Last Steward Page 25
