The Black Witch (Anasta Chronicles Book 2)

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The Black Witch (Anasta Chronicles Book 2) Page 3

by Jenny McKane


  Everard’s eyes glittered. He knew that he had not always been privileged. He had been born a Stromel and taken an opportunity to lift himself out of poverty, but he wasn’t about to tell this man that. Let him think what he wanted. He wasn’t looking for his good opinion.

  There was a strained silence. Avalon picked up a piece of fruit and handed it to Everard.

  “You must eat,” she said softly. “All of this doesn’t matter for now. We must focus and get to a safe place.”

  Everard took the fruit, biting into it. “If you say so,” he said.

  “I do,” said Avalon. “We have to work together. We have a common enemy now, regardless of everyone’s feelings. Can you both promise to try to put it behind us, for my sake?”

  She stared at them, slowly turning from one to the other.

  “I will try,” said Skyresh, slowly. “It is true we have a common enemy, but it is also true that you are our only common friend, Avalon.” He got up. “Let us be away.”

  Avalon sighed, but stood up. It was going to be a long trip to safety if these two men could not learn to trust each other.

  ***

  Skyresh stared out, over the hill. Ored had told him that The Safe Zone lay to the east, but he had little else to go on. He wasn’t familiar with this part of the Outlying Zone, and he didn’t have the knowledge of the terrain.

  He looked behind him. Avalon was almost to the top. He watched her leaping up the rocks, and his heart warmed to see that she looked almost like herself again. The night’s sleep had obviously refreshed her.

  Then his gaze turned to the other one. Everard. He was moving slower, frowning as he climbed. It was obvious to Skyresh that the man didn’t want to be here and was only suffering through it for Avalon. Skyresh smiled. Well, he had made his choice, when he had chosen to liberate her from the camp. He had turned his back on his career as a guardian of the realm and his life of privilege.

  It was a heavy burden for Avalon to bear. He wondered if the former guardian had thought of that when he had made his decision to go on the run with them? Skyresh knew that Avalon had made her choice to turn her back on the realm because she believed in the cause. She might have chosen at first only to save him, but in her heart, she was a rebel.

  Not like Everard Varr. He still believed in the superiority of the Jarle and their divine right to rule Agnoria. He could dress it up anyway that he wanted – claim that he had the best interests of the Stromel at heart, but Skyresh knew. He could smell it a mile away.

  If only he wasn’t with them, thought Skyresh suddenly. It would be so much easier. Yet, he knew that Avalon was attached to Everard. They had been partners, and Everard had come to save her after all. She would be resistant to any plan to leave him.

  He would just have to put up with Everard—that was obvious…for the time being anyway.

  Avalon and Everard reached the top and stood, staring out at the view. The woods spread out as far as the eye could see. Overhead, crows circled in the air, their mournful cries catching on the wind.

  “I still can’t believe that its real,” breathed Everard, staring at the birds. “All those stories were true—about the animals.”

  Avalon smiled. “I couldn’t believe it either—when I first came into the Outlying Zone and saw them.”

  Skyresh stared at the birds. “Seeing is believing. The folktales are all true. Do you believe now, Avalon, that they also once were able to talk with us and lived in Agnoria as our allies?”

  Everard scoffed. “That is probably pushing the boundaries of belief, Skyresh.”

  Skyresh turned to him. “Why are they imprisoned here then? Your beloved regime has done this for a reason. It is because they know that the animals are our natural allies and would fight alongside us for liberation.”

  “I believe it,” Avalon whispered. “I know that all that you have told me is true, Skyresh. About how the Jarle invaded the realm and cast a spell to make us forget. That magic once ruled Agnoria, and the Goddess was in her zenith.”

  Everard stared at her. “You believe all the Stromel folk tales? They are just stories, Avalon, to pass the time.”

  Avalon shook her head. “No, Everard. They are real. I know it.” She turned to him, gazing at him. “You know it, too, in your heart, but you have forgotten. Everyone has forgotten. The Jarle have brainwashed us with spells and indoctrination, but if you open your mind, just a little, you will see.”

  Everard was silent. He kept staring at the crows, high in the sky.

  Avalon sighed. It was hard for Everard to accept the truth. She knew how hard it was. It had taken a long time for her to accept it. Skyresh had told her, over and over, when she had been captured by his group of rebels in the Far North back when she had been a guardian of the realm. She had stubbornly refused to believe and had led him and his people into a trap. She had almost led him to his execution. The thought still tore at her.

  She knew the truth now. Her recurring dream—of the old woman and the Goddess—had been trying to tell her. Her vision in the temple ruins in the Far North. Seeing one of the realm’s cleansing camps where they killed the people had convinced her. And then… discovering that she hadn’t been born Jarle. That the people she thought were her parents had stolen her from her real family when the Jarle had invaded the realm.

  She hadn’t told either of them about that. There hadn’t been time. What would Everard say when he found out that she was actually Stromel born? She knew that Skyresh would be pleased, at least.

  She turned and looked at him. He was staring at the crows, as well, frowning.

  “I think they are there for a reason,” he said slowly. “I think that we should follow them. They will lead us where we need to go.”

  Everard’s eyes widened. “We are going to follow a group of birds?”

  Skyresh nodded. “It is a sign from the Goddess,” he said. “Put away your rational mind, Everard. You are no longer in Agnoria. Things work differently in the Outlying Zone.” He turned to them. “Let’s go.”

  They scrambled down the hillside. The circle of crows squawked louder, flying slightly ahead of them. Avalon gasped. Skyresh was right—as always. These birds were definitely leading them somewhere.

  ***

  The wind had picked up, slightly, and long shadows fell across the land.

  The crows had led them through the forest and down into a valley. The landscape had changed around them. Instead of endless trees, there were wide open plains of lush green, and flowers of many different colors bloomed with abandon. Avalon had never seen such flowers before. They were enormous, drooping from their stems. Their perfume filled the air, almost lulling her into a trance. She stopped and grabbed one in her hands, putting her nose into its center and breathing deeply.

  “Be careful,” said Skyresh. “I have heard the flowers in this place can be dangerous.”

  Everard laughed. “A dangerous flower? Are they going to suddenly leap forward, brandishing knives?”

  Skyresh stared at him. “I keep telling you, stop thinking rationally. You are in a different place—where your normal rules do not apply. The flowers danger is in their scent. Breathe too deeply, and you may fall to the ground and never wake up.”

  Avalon dropped the flower she was holding. “Why? Why would flowers be like that?”

  Skyresh shrugged. “Why is the sky blue? Because it is so. The Goddess has made it.”

  Avalon stared at the flowers. How could something so beautiful be so deadly? It was a trick, she guessed. The beauty was there to deceive, to draw you in. To make you believe something that wasn’t real.

  Just like Agnoria, she thought to herself. The Jarle worked relentlessly to make the realm appear prosperous and benign, but it was all a trick; it was smoke and mirrors. If you scratched the surface vigorously enough, the true nature of it was revealed.

  Everard sighed impatiently. “Is this where we are meant to be? Or do we have to travel further?”

  Skyresh stared at the sk
y. “The crows are dispersing,” he said. “They have done their job and are going back to their nests. I think we have arrived.”

  They all stared around at the lush valley. They could hear some twittering amongst the flowers and the hum of tiny insects, but otherwise, it seemed deserted.

  Everard laughed. “Well, we are in a pretty place, Skyresh, but I do not see how being here is going to help us.” He turned, staring around. “I suppose it is a peaceful enough place to rest for a few days.”

  Skyresh didn’t reply. He had turned, suddenly, and was staring to the west.

  Avalon and Everard followed his gaze.

  An old woman was standing in the distance, watching them. She was dressed in a long, white robe and holding a staff. A large creature covered with fur stood beside her.

  Avalon could hear it growling, even from so far away.

  Chapter Three

  Everard shook his head as he walked, glancing at Avalon. “I’m not sure about this.”

  Avalon turned to him. “Skyresh thinks she is a friend. You must learn to trust him, Everard. He knows more about this land and how it works than we do.” She paused. “And his instincts are rarely wrong.”

  “Well, he sounds like he can do no wrong,” he said sourly.

  Avalon turned her head to the front, staring at the woman and the creature. Neither had moved an inch, since they had first seen them. They watched, impassively, as the visitors to the Outlying Zone moved closer to them. Avalon felt a fission of fear run through her, as they got closer.

  The creature had looked large from a distance, but now loomed before them. Its fur was a mottled mix of grey and white. Avalon could see that it had fangs and huge pointy ears that moved slightly as they got closer, and the growl that she had discerned from a distance was now filling the air, almost causing the flowers to vibrate.

  She tried to swallow her anxiety. She trusted Skyresh. He would not be approaching the woman and the creature if he thought that they were in danger.

  Eventually, they were before them. Avalon could see that the woman had long, flowing grey hair, with tiny braids twined within it. She also had tiny circular blue tattoos on her forehead, like the ones on Skyresh’s neck.

  “Greetings, Mother,” called Skyresh.

  The woman blinked at them but did not smile. “Greetings. What brings you here?”

  The creature at her side growled louder.

  “We are from the realm,” Skyresh said. “We had to flee into the Outlying Zone, as we were being pursued by the Jarle. A man named Ored said that we could seek sanctuary here.”

  “You claim sanctuary?” The woman frowned. “I know of Ored. Why were the Jarle pursuing you?”

  Skyresh sighed. “It is a long story,” he said. “Perhaps we could tell it over a drink, or something to eat? We have been on the run for days, and we are weary.”

  The woman continued staring at them. Slowly, her gaze travelled from Skyresh, to Everard, before finally coming to rest on Avalon. Her eyes widened. She slowly walked up to Avalon, staring at her face.

  Avalon stared back. Up close, the woman’s face was a maze of wrinkles. She felt a prickling down her spine. The woman’s eyes were as black as night and held Avalon’s own. As hard as she tried, Avalon could not look away.

  She was conscious that the creature had walked over to her, too. It was growling, still, but nudged against her leg. She swallowed her fear.

  “You may have sanctuary,” said the old woman. “Follow me.”

  The old woman turned, walking away, but the creature stayed where it was, leaning against Avalon. What should she do? She didn’t know how to act around it. Would it lunge at her if she suddenly moved?

  The old woman glanced over her shoulder. “You do not need to fear Teitur,” she said. “He will not harm you. He has bonded with me.”

  Avalon nodded. “What is this creature?”

  The old woman smiled for the first time. “He is a wolf,” she said. “In the old days, when Agnoria was still filled with its animal friends, the wolves were our close companions. Now, they run wild, the bond broken. It takes a lot of work to become friends again.”

  Avalon stared at the creature. It had soft yellow eyes, which stared into her own. Even though she was still scared, she sensed that it was true. It would not hurt her.

  She stepped carefully. Teitur growled but let her pass.

  Everard stared at Avalon. “Are you alright?” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she whispered back.

  The wolf stayed right behind her, as they followed the old woman down into the valley, and, at last, Avalon could see a destination. There was a tiny house nestled amongst the flowers, which grew so rampant they threatened to swamp it entirely.

  For the first time, since they had escaped the camp, Avalon felt at peace.

  ***

  The old woman led them inside. The ceiling was so low, both Skyresh and Everard had to stoop to enter it. It was dark inside, but a small fire warmed the room.

  Avalon glanced around. There was a small kitchen leading off from the main room, where a cauldron bubbled and drying herbs hung from the ceiling. Cushions covered the floor of the room they had entered. There did not appear to be any chairs.

  “Sit,” the woman commanded, throwing a log onto the fire. Flames hissed and spat, licking at the air. The wolf had entered and lay down on a rug in front of the fire, appearing to fall asleep instantly.

  They looked at each other, then squatted onto the cushions. The air was filled with the scent of sage, which was burning in a candle holder.

  “I am Mother Oda,” the old woman said, turning away from the fire towards them. “You have sought sanctuary, and I will provide it, but first you must tell me more of why you have come into the Outlying Zone. To start with, what are your names?”

  “Thank you, Mother,” said Skyresh, bowing. “I am Skyresh Sakr. I lead a group of rebels in the Far North. I was recently captured and escaped execution.”

  “I have heard of you,” said Mother Oda, nodding her head. “They call you Gwalen.” She gazed at Everard. “And you?”

  Everard cleared his throat. “My name is Everard Varr,” he said. “I used to be a guardian of the realm, but circumstances changed, and I find that I am now on the side of the rebels.”

  Mother Oda raised an eyebrow. “You do not sound happy about that, Everard Varr,” she said. She closed her eyes, frowning. “There is something else. Your name doesn’t sit well with me. Tell me, were you named something else at your birth?”

  Skyresh and Avalon stared at Everard, their eyes wide.

  “No,” said Everard, shaking his head. He felt sweat breaking out on his neck. “That is my name.”

  The old woman kept gazing at him. Everard had to look away.

  “No matter,” said Mother Oda. Then she turned to Avalon. “I am interested to hear your story, child.”

  Avalon smiled. “I am Avalon Lund,” she said. “I, too, was a guardian of the realm until recently. I met Skyresh, and he showed me the truth. I am on the side of the rebellion now.”

  The old woman smiled, too. “You are another whose name does not sit well,” she said. “Have you always been known as Avalon?”

  Avalon felt tears pricking behind her eyes. Should she tell the Mother?

  “I have just found out that I was taken from my real family,” she said softly. “The people I called my parents took me when the Jarle invaded the realm.”

  Skyresh gasped. “I knew it! I knew that you had not been born Jarle.”

  The old woman nodded. “I knew it, too. As soon as I laid eyes on her, I knew she was special. But…do you know what you are, Avalon?”

  Avalon felt tears running down her face, and she seemed unable to stop them. She shook her head slowly. She could feel Everard’s astonished eyes on her.

  “I can’t believe it,” he muttered. “Are you sure? How did you find out?”

  “It was just before I broke into the palace,” she said, turning to
him. “I overheard my parents talking about it—about how they had taken me as a baby. About how they needed to be careful with me because of my blood.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “They seemed to be concerned that I would start to remember things.”

  She stared at Everard. “Do you see now, Everard? I know that it’s all true! Why would my father, who is a minister of the realm, make it up? It is not a folk tale. The Jarle did overtake the realm, and they killed my real family.” She took a long, shuddering breath. “Whoever they were. I don’t suppose that I shall ever find out now.”

  “Do not be so sure of that,” said Mother Oda. “Cry as long as you want, my dear. I have a feeling this is the first time that you have let yourself. I will prepare something to eat. I can see that you are all tired and overwhelmed.”

  She walked out of the room and into the kitchen.

  Skyresh reached out to her, taking her hand. “Oh, Avalon. It is hard for you, I know. But…don’t you see? This is wonderful! You really are a part of us, and you are realizing it now.” He went to say more but stopped himself. Now was not the time to tell her of the vision he had in the camp—the Storyteller, who had told him the tale of the infant queen. Avalon was having a hard enough time dealing with the fact that she was adopted, let alone realizing who she really was.

  He glanced up, feeling eyes upon him. Mother Oda was staring at him from the kitchen. She knows, thought Skyresh with a shiver. She knows who Avalon really is.

  ***

  There was little talk, as they ate the food that Mother Oda had prepared.

  Avalon felt drained, so completely spent, that she had difficulty even chewing. Her mind acknowledged that the food was good and was giving her strength, but she could not stop thinking of that moment when her whole world had shifted, when she had overheard that she was not who she had always thought that she was.

  She had not had any time to process it. She had been spurred into action – breaking into the palace to try to find Skyresh and save him. Then she had been arrested and taken to the Re-Education Center. Her whole time there had been about her trying to survive, to resist the attempts to break her.

 

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