The Blended Ones (The Four Worlds Series Book 2)

by Ford, Angela J.

  A pang gripped Phyllis’s heart as she considered her sister’s warning. Were they, indeed, the ones to be wary of? Did the forest have a mind of its own? And was it pulling them in deeper into its secrets? She stood quickly, turning her back on the Jeweled Ones, Cuthan and Artenvox, and followed Ilieus deeper into the forest.

  The next morning, they woke to a delicious rain falling about them. Instead of soaking them through, it seemed to alight on their heads, like feathers, gently gracing them with its presence. The intensity of the forest vanished as the rain fell, cooling off all hostility and refreshing those that bathed in its loving grace. Phyllis stood in it with her eyes closed, head thrown back, and her hands wide open as it fell, cleansing her of sorrow. When she opened her eyes again, she could see creatures almost like hummingbirds, fluttering in-between and gathering the raindrops, laughing in silver voices as they flitted here and there. Only they weren’t hummingbirds, but the speed of their flight kept them from being seen with the naked eye. “What are they?” Phyllis laughed as she watched them streak through the rain.

  “I don’t know. I almost caught one I think!” Ilieus laughed back.

  For mere moments, there was only them, the rain, and the joy it brought. And the darkness faded away.

  Artenvox watched with a smile on his face, and Cuthan looked around in awe, enchanted. “Every time I venture here,” he spoke, holding out his hands to touch the rain. “I find such beauties and mysteries I never knew existed. I live to find adventure far and wide because there is always something new to learn, discover, and hold on to. Why would one ever leave such a place as this?”

  They stayed as long as they dared, but the rain refused to stop, following them through the glistening wood and dropping like jewels upon the thicket until the thicket shone like a crystal. They snuck through the forest in breathless wonder: turning over a leaf here, peeking through the underbrush there, and expecting to find treasure at every turn.

  The miracle waited as long as it dared until, toward sunset, the rays of the sun cut through the forest, splitting the heavy growth with its light and dancing like a prism through the scattered raindrops. A mist began to rise as the sun burned off the rain, and the birds of the trees chirped and sang, flying from branch to branch, calling to each other and awakening their young, reminding all it was time. The small animals chattered, the squirrels with their fluffy tails came round, hedgehogs peeked out of their holes just to see, and predators stalking their prey paused for a moment. The beams of sunlight reached through the mist and sparked a dazzling rainbow of colors that lit up the wood in deep blues, reds, purples, and oranges.

  Phyllis gasped and felt a lump in her throat as she looked. She reached out in reverence of the glory and her hand fell into Ilieus’s who squeezed it tight. Together they watched the miracle of light dance through the forest, spreading a beacon of unity to all it touched. It may have been mere minutes or hours before it faded, holding the entire forest rapt before it let them go and let them return to their lives. When Phyllis put a hand to touch her cheek, she found it wet with tears, and all the woes of the world seemed to have been worth it just for that small moment.

  That night, they camped on the banks of a river, and Artenvox caught fish that Cuthan gutted and roasted. They ate slowly, enjoying the meal for as long as they could while the silvery lights of night cast their brilliance on the river.

  Mayhap it was the rain and the light, but long after the evening hours had passed, they found themselves awake. Only Roturk slept by the river bank while they sat in silence, propped against trees and listening to the music of the night. Crickets hummed in the distance, cicadas chipped underground, and the bushes and underbrush rustled as if on key.

  Ilieus sat up. “Wait.” She held a finger to her lips and cocked her head. “What’s that?”

  “Ah,” Artenvox murmured in satisfaction like one drunk on too much ale.

  Ilieus stood and turned back from whence they had come. “I thought I heard the forest send a message, asking us to come, but look!”

  Phyllis stood in slow motion, as if in a dream, while Cuthan lazily dragged himself away from his comfortable perch. Artenvox used his elbows to lift himself from the bank, and together the four of them peered back into the wood. A light flickered and another; lightening bugs had come to show the way. Yellow and white lights danced as if the stars had come down from the sky to come alive in the forest.

  “There.” Ilieus pointed. “I think there is another fire out there.”

  “Ah, you may be right,” Artenvox agreed.

  They fell silent again, watching and waiting.

  A note from a song floated to them; it was brought by the gentle stirrings of a breeze. A thump here. A thump there. An intentional thump in tune to the note.

  Ilieus moved forward, rushing from one tree trunk to the next. Phyllis moved behind her, but Artenvox was bolder and more daring, dashing further ahead with Cuthan at his heels. As they followed, they could indeed see a flickering fire and hear the sound of music and the soft thumps of what perhaps was dancing.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  The Havens

  They crept closer, weaving their way through the dark trees, and in an instant, they could see it clearly. Once again, there was a large clearing, where the lights from the sky could be seen. In the middle, a fire flickered high into the sky; its flames leaping and growing with the strange music that seeped up from the ground and swelled from the treetops. At first, it was a sweet music with strings from a harp expertly plucked. Yet again, it was as intense as hollow wood that was beat upon, thrumming deeply across the glade. The shadows moved back and forth in the darkness, but it was clear a great many beasts danced in a circle around the fire; their mix of graceful and heavy footfalls caused the rhythmic thumping in the trees. They moved in a continuous circle, although some jumped and leaped in the air. Winged creatures fluttered in circles, creating their own lines in the air. Just as they began to sing a song in an unfamiliar tongue in the language of the forest, there was a cry, and all was plunged into blackness.

  A sharp warning hiss made the four jump, but all was dark and silent. Frozen in the sudden chill of the forest, they waited, unsure if or how to find their way back to the riverbank in the darkness. Bereft, Phyllis felt as if they had left their warm hearth for something better, only to find themselves falling prey to the elusive tricks of the forest. A sigh fell from the lips of Cuthan, and even in the shadows, Phyllis could tell his shoulders drop.

  “Why do you seek us?” A cold voice shot through the darkness, plunging its icy vibrations into their ears. “Why did you come to destroy our council?”

  A moment later, a white orb appeared, lighting up the clearing in the wood and allowing the four to plainly see the speaker. She was about a foot tall with long red hair that curled in wisps around her graceful body, and her skin was fair, almost a pale white. An orb of light hovered around her, giving her an aura of white light that would have glared harshly on her skin had she not been so beautiful. Her arms were encased in wings of a sheer coloring even the light could not clearly display. She spread her winged arms and had a hint of impatience on her marble-like face as she stared at the four.

  They gaped at her, wide-eyed and tongue-tied, wondering for a moment if they were all asleep and happened to be having the same dream.

  “Well?” the winged creatures demanded. “I am speaking in your language. Don’t you have tongues? Can you not give me a reply?”

  “Apologies,” Cuthan stammered as he recovered his speech. “Truly,” he went on earnestly. “We were not aware that we were interrupting your council; we were only enchanted by the fire and the beauty of your ritual…”

  “It is a council,” the creature snapped, fixing her large, round gray eyes on Cuthan’s emerald ones. “Oh.” She drew a deep breath as she met Cuthan’s eyes. He gave her a roguish grin, and her icy demeanor dissipated. “You must be outsiders?”

  “Yes,” Cuthan winked at her. “Fr
om the lands to the south. But there is a war, and we’ve been sent here.”

  The creature blinked her gray eyes at Cuthan. “War,” she said disgustedly. “Wars. Battles. Fighting. Life and death. That is all nonsense in the ‘outside world.’ Why do you come here?”

  “We are searching for an ancient power,” Cuthan began. “To aid us in bringing peace to these lands.”

  “These lands? You mean your lands in the outside world.” The creature shook her head disdainfully. She pointed at Cuthan. “Because of you, I may help. You have…” She waved her hands. “A destiny about you.”

  With that, she gave a shrill whistle and twirled around in the air. She called out in a musical voice in the foreign tongue. As if she’d flipped a switch, the fire in the middle of the glade came back on, this time burning much lower. Curious eyes watched the four as the creature led them across the clearing toward the fire. She motioned for them to sit as more creatures with long red hair and darker eyes gathered. Some carried small scepters with jewels glowing on top. White and yellow orbs fluttered around them; they were creatures with their own inner lights. The fire crackled warmly, welcoming them into its midst, and the beasts of the night faded into the shadows. They were all there: the deer, antelope, lions, bears, wolves, foxes, squirrels, chipmunks, birds of the air, and creatures of the thicket.

  The winged creature fluttered down to the ground and walked toward the fire, her feet bare. She spoke to it softly and lovingly until it burned even lower and quieter as if it were alive and could heed her words. Turning around, she faced the four, pacing back and forth, floating almost in the air. She spread her winged arms and pointed at Cuthan and Artenvox. “You are the Jeweled Ones?”

  “Yes.” Artenvox nodded, his long hair shining in the firelight.

  “You have been here before?” She cocked her head at them.

  “Yes.” This time Cuthan and Artenvox spoke in unison.

  “Then you have heard the voices, and you know truth demands a price.”

  Artenvox laughed a short hysterical laugh. “I was here before,” he explained. “I was told to find the Order of the Wise and the Horse Lords. I have done so, and I have returned because they tell me the key to saving these lands is here.”

  The creature shook her head. “Who told you that? The Truth Tellers?”

  “Yes.” Cuthan took over. “Who are you?”

  The creature turned, spreading her arms out. “This is the council of the creatures of the wood. My kind is Idrains; our type is Myidraids. There are many Idrains in the Four Worlds, although most dwell in the South World.”

  “Where are the Truth Tellers?” Artenvox demanded.

  Now it was the Myidraid’s turn to give a barking laugh. “You do not wish to know. They only give death, and you have escaped once. You will not escape again. Now tell me what you search for.”

  Cuthan spoke, wondering if he should trust the creatures of the wood. “The Order of the Wise told us to seek the Clyear of Power.”

  The Myidraid froze midstep, and the fire smoldered, leaving only the white and yellow orbs to cast shadows from the glade. One by one, the creatures of the wood began to leave, drifting away from the glade where words that should not be said were spoken aloud. When they were gone and only the multitude of Myidraids remained, the creature turned to them. “You seek the Clyear of Alaireia? The Clyear of Power? The very one the Five Warriors used in their time of need?”

  Phyllis felt her heart pounding, and she reached for Ilieus, realizing she did not know all that had happened to Artenvox and Cuthan during the time they spent in the north. The comfort from the rain and the beautiful lights of the forest faded into something sinister and evil.

  “Yes.” Cuthan nodded, his eyes begging for answers. “The Clyear of Power. Will you tell us what you know?”

  “We were here when the great dranagin came.”

  Phyllis jumped at the word, remembering how she’d left Roturk asleep by the riverbank.

  “She has her lair in the far northeast by Oceantic,” the Myidraid went on, “where all great beasts, such as that, dwell. There you’ll seek, and you shall find all you dream and fear and more. Many have gone. None have returned. A deadly foe such as a dranagin should not be taken lightly.”

  “We would go,” Cuthan replied, no longer attempting to charm the Myidraid with his smile. “We must go. Only, why would you not want that power for yourselves?”

  “Power?” the Myidraid scoffed. “You are foolish if you think an ancient power can change the world. It is only the hearts and minds of the people groups. You may be swayed by the desire for power, but it brings fear, and one cannot follow others because of fear. It must be because of truth, wisdom, and the deep desire to bring kindness to others. Nay, the people groups are foolish in wars of power. It is us, the immortals, who know what it truly means to live. Life is not a quest for power.”

  Ilieus leaned forward. “Your words,” she whispered. “I’ve heard them before. How?”

  “You.” The Myidraid peered at Ilieus. “You have seen beyond your years. You have spoken with one who knows the wisdom of the world. That should have been impossible.” She grew silent, looking at each of them with of curious gray eyes.

  “What of the Purebloods and the Blended Ones?” Phyllis could hardly believe she dared ask such a question. “Who is right?”

  The Myidraid fixed Phyllis with a cold glare; her voice almost became icy again. “Purebloods are pure; the power flows freely through their veins. The Blended Ones are muddied; their powers flow stronger because of it, but it is mixed and dangerous. Potent. Beware the Blended Ones.” She finished sharply, glaring into Phyllis’s mind as if she knew exactly who and what she was. “Now come. It grows late for you; come to our havens where you shall sleep safely as our guests.”

  “Thank you. We are honored,” Cuthan replied reverently.

  The Myidraid rose, floating into the air, and a white orb floated above her. The other Myidraids rose with her, scattering light into the sky, sending orbs twinkling through the forest. An owl flew overhead, hooting in pleasure at its beauty.

  They came to a clump of bushes; each one had an opening that tunneled into a small room. Inside was a bed made of feathers, fur, and leaf. They crawled inside one of the havens, and when they lay down, the scents of fresh herbs drifted to their noses. In the distance, they could hear the music of the council starting again, and the orbs of the night rushed away to dance while the four sank into the deepest, purest sleep they’d ever had since being born. They slept so soundly that they did not hear the voices, repeating the unending chant.

  The forest will tell you the truth.

  The trees will give you knowledge.

  In exchange for one terrible price,

  They will tell you all you wish to know.

  The truth and why the world fades.

  The end of the world is near.

  There’s something you can do

  If only you can escape.

  Beware. Be warned.

  The price you pay is death.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Monsters in the Forest

  Phyllis woke to what she hoped was dawn. Stretching, she slithered through the dirt to the opening of the Havens. The glade was dotted with the tiny homes made out of bushes, yet they appeared to be a natural occurrence of the forest. Phyllis crawled out into a world of mist that hovered above the ground and floated through the bushes. As she stood tall, the mist faded, moving away from her as if it were alive.

  The air was clammy, and she rubbed her shoulders as she turned, her dark hair falling in a billowing cloud around her face as she spun. Her eyes fell on the bush she’d just crawled out from, and she walked back toward it. Perched on top was a white handkerchief of sorts. Reaching out, she stroked her finger across its silken surface. It fell open; a scattering of acorn shells dropped away from it. Inside, on the piece of cloth, was a hunk of white cheese, a slab of bread, a pile of bright red berries, and a sample of nut
s. Phyllis found herself smiling as she picked up a plump berry and bit into it, the crimson sweetness burst into her mouth with vigor. An emptiness resounded in her belly, and she ate faster, tasting the cheese next before moving on to crunch the nuts. She glanced around as she ate, watching the mist shift and curl like fingers, deciding what to do with itself.

  Moments later, Cuthan crawled out of the Havens. His normally perfect hair was flying in all directions, and there were bits of twigs and leaves stuck in it. Phyllis giggled as she looked at his sleep-smeared appearance.

  “What?” he exclaimed aghast, inspecting his clothes for wrinkles. Standing, he deftly ran his nimble fingers through his hair, tossing the bits of green out of it. “What are you eating?”

  “Oh, they left us gifts.” Phyllis pointed to the bushes.

  Cuthan spun around and froze before unwrapping the pile of silk resting just so on the velvety green of the bush. “They were marvelous, don’t you think?” he asked through a mouthful of cheese. He had purple berries, and when he lifted his face, Phyllis saw it was stained with the juice, and she wondered if her own mouth was blood-red.

  “They were curious,” Phyllis replied, unsure whether she wanted to trust the words of the Myidraid. “Beautiful yet…there was something about them.” She turned her back on Cuthan.

  “Ah.” Artenvox crawled out, yawning. “I haven’t slept like this since…” He cocked his head in confusion. “Well, since ever. We should stay and find out more from them.”

  Cuthan held up the white silk. “This says something on it.”