by Mark McCabe
Sara struggled to keep up as the old man rode on through the forest ahead of them. She had never ridden at night and was finding it difficult to know what needed the most of her attention. Between hanging on to Rayne, keeping an eye on the path and looking out for overhanging branches that seemed to appear suddenly and with little warning directly in front of her, threatening to knock them both out of the saddle, she had little time to consider where they were going or what they should now do.
Occasionally, she risked a glance backwards. Although she could neither see nor hear any sign of pursuit, she didn’t feel very reassured. She felt sure it wouldn’t be long before someone or something was after her again. She’d spent the whole of her time in Ilythia either running away or planning to run away from someone and there seemed little reason to hope this would change now.
After what seemed like hours, the old man’s horse slowed to a walk. They had traversed a considerable distance from the slig camp and had begun to climb again. Finally, he stopped and dismounted in front of her. Uncertain as to why they had halted, Sara stayed where she was. As she looked on nervously, the old man slowly walked back to where she waited. Is this it? thought Sara, moving her hand stealthily to where the hilt of her knife would normally protrude from her belt. Had he brought them this far in order to kill them here, alone, in the dark? She felt her body tense as she realised how helpless she was, unarmed and barely able to hold Rayne upright in the saddle before her.
“I’ll hold him while you dismount,” the old man said to her as he reached her side. As he spoke, he reached up and grabbed a hold of Rayne with both of his arms.
Sara did as he suggested, not knowing what else she could do. She dearly wished that Rayne was conscious; she was sure that he would know how to handle this situation. To her relief, the old man made no attempt to harm either of them. Together they managed to get Rayne down from Nell and to prop him up between them. Then, with one of his arms wrapped around each of their necks, they began to move up the slope together, half dragging and half carrying their injured companion between them.
As before, Sara could see that the old man was tiring quickly from the effort. She still had no idea where they were going and she felt the cold grip of fear returning to her limbs. Although it was dark, she could see enough to establish that there was nothing in front of them except more trees and rocks. Where was he taking them?
As Sara struggled with her fear, too afraid of what his answer might be to ask the obvious question, their progress came to a halt when a rock wall loomed up in front of them. To her utter amazement, they halted directly in front of it, close enough to reach out and touch it. Looking up, Sara wondered how they would ever manage to scale it, for that was now their only option. Even if by some miracle she could get Rayne up its face, the old man seemed utterly incapable of such a climb.
As she began to consider why he had saved them from the sligs, led them miles and miles away through the dark of night, then dismounted and led them through bracken and bush to a stone cliff face in the middle of who knows where, the old man reached out in front of them with his walking stick. Using it to push aside the bushes that lay against the cliff face, he revealed what appeared to be a dark opening in the rock.
Sara felt the skin on her arms prickle with apprehension as they stepped forward into the black void. The forest had been dark enough but now she couldn’t even make out her own hand as she held it up in front of her face; she was totally reliant on touch as they edged forward cautiously into the blackness. When they suddenly halted after only a few steps, Sara felt her whole body begin to tremble. If she’d been scared before, she was petrified now. They were in pitch darkness. What were they doing here? What madness had driven her to follow this stranger?
As Sara reached out with her senses, smelling the earthy dampness of the air that surrounded them, a sudden sound startled her. It was the old man. He was muttering something. Once again the words were indecipherable, running together and at such a low volume she just couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, though she felt that if she listened closely enough she might be able to understand him. Before she could do so, she gasped in awe as his muttering stopped and his stick started to glow, lighting up the interior of the cave they’d stepped into with a soft light.
Sara stood there gaping, both at the feat he’d performed with his walking stick and at the wide cavern that opened up before her. In the dim light, she could see that it went back some distance into the cliff face. It was clear it offered room for their horses as well as for them. This was no chance finding. Some distance in from where they stood she could make out the remains of a fireplace and a scattering of possessions. From the rear of the cavern came the sound of the steady drip of water splashing on to rock. Looking behind her, she could see that they’d turned slightly as they’d entered and that a large boulder, which lay between where she now stood and the outside, obscured the entryway itself.
“Let’s get him over there,” grunted the old man, gasping for breath and waving with his stick towards the burnt remains of the fireplace as he spoke.
With some effort, they managed to carry Rayne the remaining distance and then gently lowered him to the floor of the cavern. With that task completed, the old man turned to Sara again. “I’ll look after him. You get the horses inside.” Without waiting to see her reaction to his order, he turned and shuffled toward a pile of blankets and old clothes that lay a few paces away from the fireplace.
Sara hesitated for a moment and then moved to obey his instructions. What else could she do? Whatever he intended, for the moment, her fate, as well as Rayne’s, was in his hands.
When she returned a short while later, leading Nell, she saw that the old man had got a fire going. It was already blazing away fiercely, despite the shortness of her absence, and he’d covered Rayne with a blanket. He had propped his head up with a bundle of cloth and was leaning over him examining his arm. When he heard her return, he stopped what he was doing and silently directed her towards the rear of the cave with a wave of his arm. With the additional light cast by the fire, she found it went back further than she had realised. Right at the rear, she found a spot for the horses. There was already one there, a big brown horse that neighed in welcome to Nell.
Returning for the other two horses, she was startled to see the old man leaning forward over Rayne once more, muttering and swaying slightly as he did so. She watched, fascinated, as he reached out and ran his hand along Rayne’s arm. As his hand passed along the limb, the skin he touched started to glow with a soft, unnatural light. Within moments, Rayne’s whole arm was glowing from wrist to shoulder. Moving to Rayne’s forehead, he did the same there, with similar effect.
Approaching the two men in awe, Sara found herself unable to draw her eyes away from the incredible scene she was witnessing. As she got closer, she could see that the glowing skin was pulsing, as if in rhythm to the flow of Rayne’s blood. His skin had become translucent. She could see the veins and the muscles and tendons of his arm now as clearly as if his skin had been made of glass. She had never seen anything like it in her life.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, turning from Rayne to the old man and back again, her eyes wide with amazement.
“I’m doing what I can for his injuries,” replied the old man wearily, as if there was nothing exceptional in what he had done. As he spoke, he looked up at Sara for a moment and smiled gently. It was clear that he was close to exhaustion himself.
As he turned back to Rayne again, Sara forced herself to return to her own task. The last thing they needed now was for their hideaway to be revealed by the presence outside of the two remaining horses. When she returned a few minutes later, she saw that the old man had stopped what he had been doing to Rayne and was fussing about with more blankets.
On her third and final trip, she was surprised to find their new companion wrapped in a blanket and stretched out, apparently fast asleep, by the fire. Rayne lay asleep on its opposit
e side. A third blanket, which had clearly been left for her, lay beside him. Anxious to join them, she hurriedly tended to the horses.
When she had completed her work and returned to the main part of the cavern, she found that they were both still sleeping soundly. As the skin on Rayne’s arm and forehead continued to glow she couldn’t resist sitting beside him for a while and marvelling at the pulsing of the veins in his arm. His face looked more peaceful than she had seen it for some time, with no sign of the pain that had been etched across it back at the slig camp.
Sara wondered what she should do, not knowing whether she should be outside keeping watch or whether the old man himself might need help. He looked peaceful enough as he lay snoring softly beside the fire. Who was he and where had he come from?
Whatever his intentions, he had looked after Rayne, or at least it would seem so, and that eased her mind greatly. She thought she could bear whatever else might come if she could just see Rayne safe and well again.
As she sat there, mulling over the events of the last few hours, the suspicion that had already formed in her mind began to grow stronger. He had to be one of the remaining two Guardians, either Kell or Tarak. If what he had done at the slig camp had not involved magic, then there was no doubting the power he had used to deal with Rayne’s injuries. Sara had felt that same dryness she’d sensed in the air as he worked on Rayne once before, during her encounter with Golkar.
What did he want with her and how had he known how to find them? How had he known Rayne’s name, and could she trust him? Although Rayne had said the Guardians worked for the good of all of Ilythia, she knew that Golkar had already betrayed that trust. Perhaps this one was similarly tainted.
She decided, once again, that entertaining such fears was pointless. With Rayne as badly injured as he was, she needed to trust the old man. He had, after all, given no indication of any desire to hurt them. Far from it. He had rescued them from the sligs and brought them to what seemed to be a secure hideaway. He had even tried to do something about Rayne’s injuries. Maybe he was going to help them get out of the mess they were in.
It occurred to Sara he might even be able to help her to get out of Ilythia. She felt her skin prickle with goosebumps at the prospect of being able to go home. She didn’t know what she would do if the old man offered her that choice. To leave Rayne at this point, after all he had done for her, would clearly be a betrayal. She resolved that if such an opportunity did arise she wouldn’t leave him until she was absolutely sure he was both safe and well. The notion that she might not want to leave him at all was pushed away to one of the further recesses of her mind. She wasn’t ready to deal with that thought yet.
After a while, she realised she needed sleep as badly as her two companions did. The events of the day had exhausted her more than she had realised. Before long, she was stretched out alongside Rayne. It didn’t take long for sleep to claim her.
Chapter 13
Sara awoke with a start. She’d been dreaming of home. Rayne had been there with her and somehow they were married. Everyone that she cared for had been there as well, and they had all been so incredibly happy. As pleasant a thought as that was, she forced her mind to return to the present.
As she lifted her head up from the floor of the cavern, supporting herself on her elbows while she looked around, she wondered how long she had slept. A small patch of filtered light, peeping through from the outside onto the floor near the entryway, suggested the sun had already risen. Rayne still slept soundly beside her. His arm and forehead still glowed eerily, though she thought his skin had become more opaque than she remembered it being during the night. She hoped that was a good sign, that it meant it was healing.
The fire still burned beside them, though the flames were much lower than they had been when she’d fallen asleep. It looked as if someone had added some more wood to it at some stage while she’d slept. Further inspection of the cave was interrupted by a voice from behind her. It was the old man.
“Good morning,” she heard him say in a croaky voice. “I hope you’re feeling better after a good night’s sleep.”
Turning back towards the entryway, Sara watched as he shuffled slowly across the floor of the cave towards her, leaning heavily on his walking stick for support as he did so. He had obviously just returned from outside and still looked very tired. “Yes thank you,” she replied, stretching her arms wide as she sat up on her bedding.
It took him some time, but the old man slowly returned to his own bedding and sat down opposite her, resting his stick across his knees as he did so. Sara noted the effort he seemed to expend in carrying out such a simple task. Once he was seated, he reached out and warmed his hands in front of the flickering flames. Taking a blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders, he turned to face Sara, looking across at her with a gentle smile on his face.
“Who are you?” she finally asked, too intrigued to leave the question unspoken any longer. As she spoke, she noticed a small loaf of bread, a knife and some cheese that lay on a flat rock beside her. An earthen mug filled with liquid sat beside the food. “Is this for me?” she asked, eyeing the food hungrily.
“My name is Josef,” the old man replied in a weary voice. “Of course,” he went on, gesturing towards the food, “I guessed you’d be hungry when you woke.” His smile accentuated the creases that lined his face. Sara hadn’t fully realised before how old he really looked. He seemed ancient, like someone who belonged in a wheelchair in a nursing home, propped up with a pillow to support his head and a blanket wrapped around his legs. His presence here in the middle of the wilderness, in the situation they were in, seemed terribly out of place.
Unable to restrain her hunger, Sara reached out and broke off a piece of the bread. Taking the knife, she pared a few slices from the cheese. As she slipped the food into her mouth and began to eat, she contemplated what the old man had said. She had been certain he would identify himself as one of the two Guardians. Perhaps he didn’t want her to know who he really was. She decided to approach the issue head-on.
“I thought you might be Tarak . . . or Kell,” she said casually, keeping a surreptitious watch on the old man’s face to see how he might react to those names. “I didn’t know there was anyone else in Ilythia with the power to do what you did last night.”
The old man sighed deeply, looking down at the ground as he did so. After a few moments of silence, he responded to what she had said. “There wasn’t. Not until recently, anyway. Things seem to have changed a bit in Ilythia of late, though.”
“What do you mean?”
The old man drew in his breath again, looking down into his lap and shaking his head slightly as he did so. Sara watched as he lifted one hand and rubbed it across the cracked and wrinkled skin on his forehead. His face had a pained look, as if he was dreading answering her question. Eventually, he lifted his head. Looking directly at Sara, who had stopped eating and was watching him intently, he started to speak again. “I guess this is where it starts,” he said as his eyes locked on to hers. “I had hoped this could have come later. After you had come to know me a bit better. There’s no time for that now.” When he paused, Sara waited expectantly, not wanting to interrupt him now that he had begun. Besides, he still wasn’t making any sense.
“My story is a long one,” he said before a sudden coughing fit prevented him from going on. After a minute or two, he recovered. Regaining his composure, he wiped some spittle from his lips and went on. “I came to this place by the same means you did. I came through the portal.”
“What? How? Why?” Sara was stunned. She hadn’t expected this at all. She shook her head as she blurted out her questions. She’d been convinced he was one of the other two Guardians. If he had come through the ‘portal’, as he called it, then he must have come from another world, like her. He might be stuck here, just like she was. Was he on the run from Golkar too?
With his eyes riveted to hers, Josef continued. “I opened the portal and came to this p
lace looking for you. I need your help.”
Sara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It had to be some kind of sick joke. “You need my help?” she replied incredulously, almost laughing as she spoke. “That’s rich. I can’t even help myself. I was sort of hoping you might be able to help me.”
A pained look passed across Josef’s face as she spoke. “I know it seems strange,” he responded, almost apologetically. “I hadn’t wanted to tell you all of this straight away. But I have no choice now. The Spell of Portal drained me immeasurably.” He paused for a moment as he bent forward, racked by coughs yet again. Sara could see now that he really didn’t look well. His whole appearance was of someone who had been greatly weakened by excessive effort. She hadn’t noticed before, but his eyes were bloodshot and his hands were trembling slightly. When he spoke again he seemed to be almost pleading with her. “I’m dying, Sara. What I’ve done has only served to shorten the brief time I have left.”
Drawing her hands up to the sides of her head, as if to block out what he was saying, Sara shook her head. This couldn’t really be happening to her. She had begun to think that all of her troubles might be behind her. Obviously, she had been too hasty. The old man was on his deathbed. Instead of one person to look after, she now had two. Even as they sat there talking, the sligs were probably combing the area searching for them. Taking a deep breath, she told herself to get a grip. It wasn’t Josef’s fault, whoever he was. And he had rescued them from the sligs. The least she could do was show him some courtesy.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking back at Josef and trying to force a smile to her face as she spoke. “I can’t begin to thank you for saving us from the sligs. But I don’t see how I can help you. I’m just a young girl, and a lost one at that. Other than ‘somewhere in the Western Wilderness’, wherever that is, I have no idea where we are. I’m really sorry you’re not well and I’ll do whatever I can to be of help. But you’ve got the wrong person.”
