The lavish adornments had taken the villagers weeks to complete, and now only Khartyn’s presence was needed for the ceremony to begin. The Faiaites had not forgotten their deep shame for participating in the witch burnings and whenever Khartyn came to the village, which was seldom, they avoided her eye. Messenger birds were perched in every direction ready to fly to the corners of Eronth as soon as it was known who the Dreamers had selected to be the Crone’s new apprentice.
Khartyn’s boots sounded on the cobblestones as she walked through the village. Children in their best clothes curtseyed and threw flowers to the Crone, each hoping they would be the chosen one. Horns and bells were sounded, and the large crowd cheered when they spotted the Crone. Ceremonial assistants flicked drops of blood from the shells over the crowd, using silver shell-shaped spatulas. Khartyn saw Maya and Bwani with the wizards behind them in front of the pantehlum and she nodded briefly to them in greeting. She saw at a glance that Edwen and Maya had become lovers, and for a second her lips pursed.
Khartyn wondered if perhaps this time the Dreamers were going to make a statement and declare that no Faian maids were pure enough to serve as her apprentice. Just as she was thinking this, however, she saw a flicker of energy above the head of a young girl in the crowd. She hurried over to her, and the crowd jostled each other to get a better look.
The adolescent girl staring up at her had long brown hair brushed into two plaits, and a sweet, sensitive face sprinkled with freckles. Her mother stood behind her, hands clasped in hope as Khartyn approached. The Crone stared into the child’s dark brown eyes. A vision came to her, of Rosedark, Mary and Ano on the faggots and this child alone trying to save them, standing up to the Lightcaster. With a trembling hand she reached out and flicked aside the girl’s fringe. She had known what would be there already. The burning shell. The whole of Faia erupted into cheers, while the Crone surveyed the child.
‘What is your name?’ she asked.
‘Acacia,’ the girl replied.
Khartyn smiled and held out her hand. ‘You are the Chosen One,’ she said softly.
After the child’s tearful farewell to her family, the Crone and her apprentice made the long walk home together. Acacia chatted briefly, then cried for some of the journey with the pain of leaving her family. This brought a fresh stab to Khartyn’s heart as she was reminded of Rosedark, and how she had wept when she had said her goodbyes to her family not so very long ago.
Each painful step reminded Khartyn of Sati and Rosedark. Then, in the middle of the road, stood the Stag Man. Acacia hesitated, and Khartyn felt the girl’s heart contract in fear.
‘It’s all right, child,’ she murmured. ‘He means us no harm.’ They moved slowly towards him, near enough to see the large veins running down the side of his neck, to smell his animal scent. His eyes were Emma’s eyes. Now they could almost touch him. Khartyn stopped, nodding her head. Acacia, she noted, was following the Crone’s example, although the child’s heart still pounded.
The Webx has passed the first test. The Stag Man’s voice sounded in her head. It was the voice of spiders, of deep velvet night.
‘Praise be to the Dreamers,’ Khartyn murmured. The test the Stag Man was referring to was the initiation for the Oakdeer Gwyndion. The Crone knew that the Webx had to undergo extreme hardships when they reached Oakdeer, but never before had she heard of any Webx having such an extreme test as Gwyndion had been subjected to. She dreaded to think of the deeper levels of initiation ahead for the Webx. Gwyndion must be extremely advanced for the Dreamers to be so strict. The questions she was longing to ask about his and Samma’s whereabouts, and their state of mind, choked in her mouth when she saw the Stag Man’s eyes. Some mysteries could never be voiced, never be shared.
Instead, Khartyn felt a large sob burst from inside. The emotion took her by surprise. Black grief, clotted and stinking, erupted from her chest and flew into the stag body.
Don’t grieve. Dance. The voice slithered through her mind again as the Stag Man nodded towards the side of the road. New plants were forming out of the devastation wrought by the giants’ abandoned attempt on Faia. Nature regrows itself, Khartyn thought. From devastation comes the new shoot. The heart and body is strong, and broken hearts and spirits do mend. Perhaps never the same; no, never the same, but they do love again in different ways.
When she looked back to the Stag Man, he had vanished. She felt the night breeze on her face, and she knew it to be Rosedark wishing her goodbye.
It is becoming harder to write. My hands are stiff with arthritis and my eyesight is poor. Time and time again I have begged King Quimonmen for an assistant to help me, to take my dictation, but the King has no interest in the Winski Book of Life. His only aim every day is to avoid Queen Diomonna as much as he can. Sad to tell, she is still stinky. The Hollow Hills are filled with her smell and we have tried everything. It is making the majas sick and they vomit everywhere. Diomonna has no interest in the Hollow Hills. She sits in the corner with her head drooping and her eyes half shut. When Quimonmen comes too near her, she spits at him and tries to pull his head off and we have to separate them. Great is her rage at being called back from the Underworld. Since I, Jig Boy, tore her wing, she can no longer fly and she likes to sit and talk to friends that we cannot see.
It is becoming harder to write. In the mornings I can hardly move my body out of my bed. I want to lie still and be at peace and not have all these words always in my head begging to be free. There are times I regret badly all the endless, countless hours I spent slumped over my desk while my fellow Winskis played and sang. Most of them are dead now. I have outlived them all and I live among their children. Would I have enjoyed my life more if I had not written? When I was a young Winski, I would not have dared to ask the question. Recording the Winski life meant everything to me. Now that I am older and wiser, I wonder if I was foolish and egotistical to care so much about my word scribbled on pages. I, Jig Boy, am the only one who cares about our history! The other Winskis have already told me that when I die and am thrown to the winds, they will burn the Winski Book of Life.
There is no love here for the old tales, for the myths and truths of life in the Hollow Hills. It is hard to be the only one who cares. King Quimonmen had a haircut and looks uglier than ever. He has grown so fat, he can no longer fly. But the stupid Faery women still flock around him and rouge their nipples for him. The young Faeries have no taste. Diomonna has lost all her looks. She sits in a corner, rocking herself back and forth. Her once beautiful red hair is white. How we regret now that we cheered Quimonmen to bring our Queen back. Hecate does not like to be cheated of her prize. The Wezom and Imomm are fighting again, there is never peace any more in the Hollow Hills.
The young ones do not remember now what it was like. But I, Jig Boy, do. I remember great feasts and dancing and Bluites dancing to death. I remember Old Patricia, and Ellie-Jane and Maya, and many other sacrifices besides. So many memories, so many tales of bloodshed, love hungered for, lives lost. This is why I write the Winski Book of Life. I know no other eyes will ever see it after I am thrown out of the door, but I want the people I have known to be remembered. They are not great beings of history like King Pysphorrus, but they deserve to be commemorated and their tales to be told.
I no longer know what the weather is outside. My bones are always cold. Darkness fell upon Eronth, but this is no concern of Winski folk.
My eyes are sore and tired and I must rest. Tonight I feel a strange melancholy in my bones, a longing for the old times in the Hollow Hills when there was joy and laughter. The Winskis seem to grow so few in number.
To be the Chief Scribe of the Winski Book of Life has been both a blessing and a curse. It has caused me intense loneliness, more painful than anyone who reads these words will ever understand. I feel driven by wild horses to write. My heart is sad tonight. I remember our great Queen when she was so beautiful, not an empty shell stinking up the hills. But the story must continue, the Winski history must
be recorded or else my life has been for nothing. It bus been a long and lonely path, but a path I willingly chose. This is my book, the Winski Book of Life. I have told my tale as well as I could and now I leave it in your hands.
— ACCOUNT WRITTEN BY JIG BOY, SON OF ELVEN FOOT (FORGOTTEN WHAT TURN OF THE WHEEL)
THE UNDERWORLD
There is nothing that remains of me. I am now bones, dust, decay, sky. I am at one with all goddesses and my song is woven through the fabric of time. All truths are one truth, all gods are one god, and all separate paths must lead to this.
I am Persephone, trapped in her sacred contract. I am the Tomb Goddess, the Purifier of souls. I have become your eyes, your skin, your hair.
Bodies rot and decompose, yet it is the small things that make us gods. A kind word, a smile. It is the love we give and are given that brings us eternal life.
Yes, I no longer need my onion eyes to see. I no longer have an identity, a memory of a family that I mourn. I resisted death so much, clinging to life, to the limited love that I knew.
Now I blaze with the heavens.
I now know all marvels, but know all that there is for us is love. Only love. It is all that keeps me alive in death. Love is all.
They say death does not come as the end. This is all I know. All that I know is that our lives, no matter how insignificant and humble they may seem, are divine plays for the gods. We are judged when we enter the Underworld on all our small deeds, as well as our great.
GLOSSARY
ALFECKLAND
Ancient nature spirit. Is nearly extinct now in several worlds, and totally extinct on the Blue Planet. The Alfecklands have retreated in ever-increasing numbers to forest land near Faia, in an effort to restore their dwindling numbers.
AMEW
Azephim High Council. The Amew consists of voted members, eleven in all, who preside over day-to-day affairs concerning the Azephims. They have very little regard for rules and regulations and are easily corrupted.
ANGOLI
Child Azephim.
ASRAI
Small delicate female Faeries who melt away into a pool of water when captured or exposed to sunlight.
ATHAME
Witch’s knife, used for channelling energy and casting circles.
AZEPHIM
Dark angels.
AZMOME
Poison that the Sea Hags inject from spikes in their bodies.
BAFFIN
Coastal city in Eronth. (See also New Baffin.)
BASAL
Goat-men. Friends and allies of the Stag Man.
BELTHANE
The great festival celebrating fertility and fire. Robert Graves claims in The White Goddess that the Belthane fires culminated in the sacrifice of a man representing the Oak God. Belthane is a festival of human sexuality and fertility, a celebration of spring energy.
BINDISORE
Outcast. Offspring of interbreeding, most often as a result of union between Azephim and Faiaites, or Azephim and Faery tribes. A Bindisore is hatched from an egg which is commonly fostered by an eagle.
BINDIWIT
A hybrid of bat and elf. Now extinct in all the known worlds.
BLUITE
Earth dweller; one from the Blue Planet.
BOGIE
Goblin. The temperament of Bogies range from mischievous to evil. In Eronth the Bogie is a great ally to the remaining Faery tribes.
BOLGON
Religious texts in Eronth. Ancient tree magic texts, housed in New Baffin and guarded by the Tremite Scribes.
BONELYNX
Animal once native to Eronth, and hunted into extinction by the Azephim, who sought it for the magical properties attributed to the bone through its nose.
THE BOOK OF LIFE
Common term in Eronth referring to the Tremite Book of Life. (See Tremite Scribes.) The Book of Life is open to interpretation and is frequently misinterpreted. There is also a Winski Book of Life, which is only taken seriously by its lone scribe, Jig Boy.
THE BOOK OF SHADOWS
A witch’s book of spells, rituals and magical lore. Traditionally, the Book of Shadows is copied by hand by each new apprentice to its witch or Crone.
BOWZ
Informal Webx term to describe Hostlings.
BRAGGADOCIO
A vain-glorious being. A boaster.
BRIDE OF THE STONE
Refers to the Eronth legend of the pure maiden who will awaken the Rainbow Bird Wizards in the Circle of Nine.
CANDLEMAS
The feast of lights, signalling the first signals of spring inside Mother Earth. Heralds the strengthening light that is beginning to pierce the dark of winter. Candlemas is also the feast of Brighid, a fertility-bringer.
CIRCLE OF NINE
Nine powerful wizards who fled to Eronth after stealing the Eom crystal from the Azephim in the Web-Kondoell. They were turned into nine stones after incurring the wrath of the goddesses in Eronth when they attempted to molest Aphrodite. The Circle of Nine stands outside Faia, and the stones are cared for and protected by the Faian villagers and the Nine Virgins, protectors of the sacred fires and companions to the stones. According to legend, when the masculine energy overthrows the sacred goddesses and the last goddess admits defeat, the Stone Wizards may return to flesh and blood and rule Eronth, although the Tremite Scribes predicted that the love of a pure maiden would awaken the sleeping warriors and they would become flesh.
CRONE
Old woman held in high regard in Eronth. Crones normally display a vast range of magical powers and live with an apprentice.
CROSSA
One who is able to travel freely between all the known worlds. One who fully realises the truth that all worlds are one world.
DARK BEAUTIFUL ONE
A term for the Azephim.
DARNTIS
Great columns of stonework in the Uluree in the Web-Kondoell. They feature elaborate bone carvings.
DAY OF ASHES
The day the Webx race was attacked by the Azephim and the Eom was abducted.
DEOSIL
In a clockwise or sunwise direction.
‘EKO OPZUF ELLE!’ or ‘ALZOURI EKO ELLE!’
Magical banishing phrase to repel Solumbi.
ELDERS
Final stage of Webx life, when the Webx reaches its pinnacle. Contrary to popular belief, the Webx people are not immortal although they do live for millions of years before turning to seed, when new life flows from them. The Elders are the most respected in the Webx tribe. This final great stage is only reached after decades of arduous testing and initiations in the Oakdeer stage.
ENDI
Flesh-eating bush that grows silver berries. Endi is found in profusion throughout the Wastelands.
ENJOLI
Species of bird common throughout Eronth.
EOM
Sacred black crystal. Originally claimed by the Webx race, but abducted by the Azephim.
ERGOM
Rodent, similar to mice. Common in Eronth. They make satisfactory magical familiars due to their high intelligence and willingness to please.
ERINNYES
See Snatcher.
ERONTH
An island existing in a parallel dimension.
ESTEO
Eronth version of coffee. A popular drink throughout Eronth. Made with crushed hazelnuts, vanilla and ilkama milk.
EYSTON
Azephim word for measuring time. No equivalent in Bluite time.
EXHLAZ PORTAL
A major portal between Eronth and Earth. Created by a coven of witches in the Blue Mountains.
FAIA
Large agricultural village in Eronth under control of Mary, the High Priestess, a Bluite Crossa. Is the home of the Circle of Nine.
FAIAITES
Most modern-day Faiaites are a hybrid of Faery and old Faiaian blood. Their original name has been suppressed, although it is described in the Book of Life. It is believed that if the original name is spoken in the
wrong tone, or written in the wrong mood, it has the power to split the known worlds.
FAIR-I’S
Magical enchanted eyes that resemble pebbles and flowers. If handled, you lose your sight. Found throughout Eronth, but in particular in the Glade of the Almost Were.
FURIES
See Snatchers.
GELDOZ
Hybrid bull man of the Weldon race. Mary’s assistant in Faia.
GHORMHO
First hatched from an Azephim clutch of eggs. The Ghormho, male or female angel, is always highly regarded and is never eaten by the Azephim Hatcher.
GLADE OF THE ALMOST WERE
Magical forest in Eronth inhabited, due to a karmic gift, by materialisations from earth. A glade of failed dreams and dreamers. By allowing the Glade of the Almost Were on Eronth, it frees up the Blue Planet from the toxic materialisations that smother it.
GLAISTIG
Part water Faerie, part goat and all seductress. Lures all beings and then feeds on them in the fashion of a vampire. The Glaistig frequents streams and rivers in Eronth. It can survive in the ocean but is rarely spotted there.
GLAMOUR OR GLAMOURING
Protective magical camouflage. Used throughout several of the known worlds either for aesthetic reasons — that is, to appear more beautiful, to disguise ageing — or for reasons of survival or treachery.
GLAZRMHOM
The second to be hatched from a clutch of Azephim eggs. Both the Ghormho and the Glazrmhom are highly regarded and the Azephim Hatch Mother will not eat them.
GLOMX TESTS
Alternative name for the chapters of the Tremite Book of Life that are concerned with ancient prophecies.
GOZA
Eronth vegetable stew.
GREAT OCEAN
The divine fluids of Lepso, both tears and body fluids, that surround the Dreamers in the Shell, according to Eronth mythology.
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