by M. D. Grimm
As we rode, once or twice Morgorth would lift his eyes to the sky, as if searching for something. But what would be in the sky that would gain his attention? It wasn’t long before I realized his acute attention to the birds that flew over our heads. But he only frowned, never seeming to find what he wanted.
Toward midday, as we began to trot along a wide lane that carved straight through a forest, the crystal suddenly pointed left, straight into the denser part of the forest, a place without trails. Morgorth stopped his horse and seemed to consider it. I looked past him and tried to see beyond the trees. There was no defined trail, but I heard water, as from a river, not far ahead. Birds twittered, which was always a good sign, and I caught the swift noises of deer and other smaller critters. It was a lively forest without a sense of dread hanging over it. It would be safe enough to travel through.
I looked at Morgorth, who seemed to be lost in thought. The crystal still pointed sharply left.
“Morgorth? Do we go in?”
He sighed. “Seems we have no choice.”
We turned toward the forest but then Morgorth hesitated. He suddenly turned to me and held out his hand.
“Give me the pendant.”
I nearly balked, which was foolish but instinctual. I never took off the amethyst pendant he’d given me when I first arrived at Geheimnis. I didn’t want to give it to him, but I slipped it off my neck and handed it over. I felt naked without it as well as silly for thinking that way.
Morgorth smiled slightly, as if knowing my thoughts. He cupped it in his hand and his magick suddenly flared. He fisted his hand, trapping the pendant inside, and blue light suddenly formed around it. His lips didn’t move but I assumed he cast a spell, and then the light was gone. He handed the pendant back. It was warm when I touched it.
“I’ve enchanted it to allow you to teleport. If something happens, Aishe, I want you to grip the pendant and visualize Olyvre’s cottage. Visualize the shape of his home, the fields in the back, the scent of wheat, and the warmth of his home. Visualize all that while gripping the pendant, then say ‘meliky’.”
I frowned. “Meliky.”
He nodded. “Right. If you do everything correctly, the magick in the pendant will transport you to Olyvre’s. Then you send a querian to Master Ulezander.”
I stared at him, suddenly understanding what he was saying. I glared at him. “I’m not leaving you.”
“I know.” His voice was calm. I seethed. “While I’m alive you won’t leave me. But if events...turn dark, I need you to be safe.”
Anger gave way to shock. He looked so serious, so bloody calm! “Are you telling me to use the pendant if your father kills you?”
“Yes.”
I shook my head in denial, my stomach in knots. I was going to be sick. The very idea of him dying... no. It wasn’t going to happen. “Morgorth—”
He gripped my hand, stared into my eyes. “Aishe, calm yourself. This is a precaution, nothing more. There is too much we don’t know about this situation. That scares me and makes me wish I had kept you at home.”
I opened my mouth. He cut me off.
“Don’t bother. I’m just telling you the truth of what I’m thinking. I don’t plan on dying today, or many centuries into the future.” His beloved eyes bore into mine, and they were hard as granite. “And I give you my word I will fight for every breath. I will fight Death itself before I leave your side. Do you believe me?”
I nodded as I struggled to calm myself.
“Good. I will find him and I will kill him. But nothing is certain. If things go wrong, you are the only one left to tell Uzzie about him before he causes more destruction. The Council of Mages can bring him down if I fail.”
I nodded again. “I promise to do what you ask, should I have to.” I pressed his hand to my chest. “Just promise me you won’t die.”
He smiled, a gleam of arrogance in his eyes. “Trust me, baby, I’m not easy to kill. And I happen to like my life too much to join the Mother yet.”
I leaned over and kissed him. We couldn’t extend the kiss as our horses shied and stamped with impatience underneath us, not to mention the fact we were on a quest. We couldn’t let our guard down.
“Come on, then.” Morgorth urged his horse forward, off the lane. I followed.
***
The forest was large with foliage everywhere. We ended up leading our horses since they became spooked a few times. And Morgorth began to complain that his legs were cramping. It really was a pleasant forest, similar to some I used to stay in as a child. I smiled in memory, relieved I was now beginning to remember my tribe without a constant pain in my heart. Pain and grief would always be there, of course, but it started to dim a little each day.
“Aishe, got a strange question for you.”
“Yes?”
He paused while his eyes continued to observe our surroundings. I did the same, and I also listened acutely for any unusual noise.
“You do well around children, you know? You’re easy around Lyli, and I remember how you were with Lucia as a young lad. Remember?”
I smiled fully in memory. “Yes, I remember Lucia. I also remember her fascination with you. You showed her magick.”
He nodded. “Well, I don’t know why this is suddenly on my mind but....”
“But what?” I prompted when he stopped.
“Did you ever want to be a father?”
I stopped walking. He seemed reluctant to meet my eyes.
“I....” I stopped, considered. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it. My whole life was so focused on becoming a warrior and finding you, becoming your mate. I never considered it.” But I did now. “It could be fun. I think I’d make a good father.”
He nodded as his eyes flickered over my face. “You would.”
I tilted my head as I began to walk again. “Why do you ask?”
He shrugged, looking ahead. “I don’t really know. Kids were never a part of my life, maybe because I never was one, not really. But after seeing Lyli warm up to you, I guess...I’d hate to think I was depriving you or something.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Do you want children?”
“For the Mother’s sake, no.”
His adamant tone didn’t surprise me. “Don’t like children?”
“Not really that. I don’t know how to deal with them. They’re...they’re these tiny little lives full of weakness and dependency. They’re fucking terrifying.”
I couldn’t stop the chuckle. Morgorth scowled at me and I sobered quickly. “I remember how you were with Lucia, Morgorth. And those children with the Velorn tribe, remember? The ones you gave the translucent balls to?”
He nodded.
“You understand children better than you think.”
“Maybe,”—Doubt was in his tone—“but it’s not just that.” He stopped, turned to face me. “Maybe if I wasn’t who I was, if I wasn’t so hated, I’d think differently. I already have one weak spot—you—and I don’t need a defenseless child to draw the attention of my enemies. No child deserves that.”
I considered him. “Is that why you’ve never considered taking on an apprentice, the way Master Ulezander took you on?”
Morgorth smiled bitterly. “No apprentice would ever remove the stigma of having the Destroyer as their master.”
That was that, it would seem. We started walking again.
“There is another reason,” I said softly. “You know I can see it.”
He said nothing.
“You’re afraid you might harm children, that you don’t have the patience for them. You fear you will be a tyrant like your father.”
Morgorth’s voice was thick when he spoke. “Abuse is a cycle. It becomes normal.”
“That’s not always true. You know it isn’t normal, and it isn’t right. I’ve seen you with children, Morgorth. You’re nervous but you’re kind. I was a child once, clinging to you, remember?”
He nodded.
“You didn’t harm m
e.”
“You’re the exception to every rule I’ve ever made,” he grumbled.
I chuckled, I couldn’t help it.
“It’s not the same with you, Aishe,” Morgorth said quietly. “Children need unselfish love, infinite patience, and...they need their parents to be examples of righteousness. I can’t be that.”
I regarded him as we walked. I didn’t like the dark turn this conversation had taken, but I suppose this quest would bring up many a dark thought.
“You have your own example of parental righteousness, Morgorth.”
He frowned. “Master Ulezander doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“He just doesn’t.”
“I ask again, why—”
“He’s a schemer as well. He’s secretive, sneaky, cunning. I’m thinking of your parents. They were honest and forthright and self-sacrificing. They are examples I could never be.”
I gripped his shoulder and forced him to stop, to face me. He reluctantly met my eyes, his own showing confusion and exhaustion.
“They had their faults as well. Parents need to be good examples, yes, but then children grow up and become their own beings. We learn more of the world and we gain knowledge and wisdom not even our parents knew. They are part of the foundation, but what child actually grows up to be entirely their parent? No one. Not I, and not you. Besides, we don’t have children yet, so please stop beating yourself up on a ‘what if’.”
He sighed. “Right. Sorry. Let’s focus.”
I nodded and we started walking again. But the mood between us was still dark, and I was compelled to change that. “We’re not dead yet, you know.”
Morgorth glanced at me. “What?”
“We have many years ahead of us. Who knows what the future brings?” I linked my arm around his, grinning. “I might change your mind one day. Then we’ll fill Gehiemnis with the laughter of ten children.”
Morgorth paled, his eyes darkened, and he looked rather ill. I thought he was about to faint. “Ten?” he choked out. “Ten?”
I laughed, I couldn’t hold it in. “That’s a good, strong number, don’t you think? I can see it now: little boys and girls running around, playing chase through Vorgoroth. Or hide-and-seek through Geheimnis. We could teach them to fight, and if any are mages you could teach them magick. Grendela and the boygles will have their hands full with cleaning the place, which is good, since they love to be useful. Oh! The gargoyles could take them flying, the kids will like that and—”
“If you don’t stop now, I’m teleporting you back to the inn.”
I laughed again, nearly doubling over at the pure terror etched across his face. Then he scowled, color suffusing his cheek. He pushed me away from him.
“Go away, idiot. See if I ever allow us to have children now. You just scared away a century of my life. Stop laughing!”
Knowing the seriousness of our business, I did my best to stifle my laughter and finally swallowed the last giggle. I cleared my throat, wiped my eyes, and gave him a warm smile. He grumbled, hunched his shoulders, and walked faster. Our horses were nickering, as if they too found his reaction funny. I stroked Fili’s snout.
“I love you,” I said, nearly singing it.
He let out a sharp sigh before glancing back. “Love you, too. Mother knows why.”
Chapter Ten
Morgorth
The crystal often seemed confused as we followed it deeper into the forest. That didn’t surprise me. The spell would have worked better if I had a closer relationship with my father. If there had been some intimacy between us. But the very idea of trying to become friends with that monster made my skin crawl. One of us would die during our encounter. That was the only acceptable outcome. I felt nothing, magickally speaking, as we followed where the crystal pointed. That alternately reassured and disappointed me. My father had been here recently, perhaps in the past couple of weeks, but he was here no longer. I could only hope this would lead us to a clue about his current location.
We still led our horses. My body was saddle sore, and Aishe’s vigorous lovemaking still affected me, though I’d never admit it. I feared the horses might bolt as well if we came across something that startled them. I’d rather not get bucked off a horse.
The forest became denser, the bramble and vegetation turning thicker. The branches blocked out most of the sun, but the chatter and rustle of animals was evident in all directions. It had a slightly lighter atmosphere than Vorgoroth, and without the magick I laced throughout my forest. It wasn’t ominous, but it certainly wasn’t friendly and inviting. It teased suffocation, but the trees, thankfully, weren’t alive and mobile.
A few bidadaris fluttered past, their tiny bodies hidden inside orbs of bright, colorful lights. They kept high above our heads, fearing us predators. I suspected there were a few ryms—elemental entities—that called this place home. It was a big forest, covering kirons of land, so it wasn’t a stretch to think seehirts were also here, spirits that protected and healed forests after a disaster.
Aishe suddenly grabbed my arm. I froze. “Do you hear that?” he murmured.
I frowned, straining my ears. It took me a moment, but I finally deciphered the rhythmic “thunk” of something being chopped, possibly with an axe.
I sent out a very small amount of my magick toward the noise. I didn’t feel any magick. It wasn’t my father. But it was an unknown, which meant it was still dangerous. I caught Aishe’s eye and jerked my head. He frowned but moved behind me. We let go of our horses’ reins and slowly approached the sound. Having a dialen for a mate meant I received valuable training on how to be silent while hunting. Aishe could seem like a ghost while on the hunt; there wouldn’t be any noise from his footfall, his breathing, he wouldn’t even disturb the leaves he walked on. I wasn’t as successful in being silent, but I used magick to make up the difference.
I tucked the crystal into a pouch before creeping closer. The thunking sound steadily grew louder as we came closer. Then, the sound was right before us, with a large bush hiding the creator from view. I glanced behind to catch Aishe’s eyes. He already had an arrow nocked, his hair tied back. He gave a curt nod, his eyes flat and hard.
I turned back and took a deep breath, gathering the needed magick for the spell. Then I sprang up, leapt over the bush, and landed hard on the other side. I took in the sight of the creator of the sound a heartbeat before releasing the spell with a word spoken in my mind. A bubble of restraint engulfed the female seela before she had time to scream. She kept hold of her axe as she bounced inside the bubble as it rolled a short distance over the ground.
She was lean, dressed in trousers and a baggy tunic. Her hair was short and black; it reached just below her ears. She had brooding features, more masculine than feminine, but still with a beauty about her that was all female. She also looked oddly familiar. It was disturbing.
She scrambled to her feet as soon as the bubble came to a rest, and gripped her axe in both hands, snarling, dark eyes flashing. She had to live in the forest, since the state of her clothes and the ferocity in her gaze were certainly not city-born.
“Why don’t you fight me fairly, mage?” she said. “Or are you too much of a coward to try your skills against a girl?”
I tilted my head slightly, my hand still outstretched, steadily pumping magick into the bubble to sustain it. I had to admire a fighter. I also noticed the way she held her axe: she knew how to use it beyond chopping wood. I suspected I would have my hands full if I fought her without magick.
“You are hardly a girl, my lady,” I said politely. “And you are not the quarry which I seek.”
The bubble vanished and Aishe lowered his bow. He was a small step behind me to my left.
The lady narrowed her eyes in suspicion, her axe still held firmly. “This is my home. You are trespassing. Who are you?”
The tone was a command. I smiled slightly. She had courage and a stubborn streak I had to respect. “You are either brave or foolish t
o demand anything from someone who could squash you with a word and a flick of his hand.”
Her lip curled. “Magick or no, I will stand up to ruffians of any species. Hiding behind your magick doesn’t make you brave, it makes you a coward.”
My eyebrows rose. Her rage didn’t seem to be directed at me, not all of it anyway. She knew mages, or had had dealings with them. Dealings that obviously hadn’t gone well.
“Who is hiding?” I asked. I spread my hands and settled my magick back into my core. My skin and eyes stopped glowing.
“Mate,” Aishe said, tensely.
“Easy,” I murmured. I stepped forward.
The lady was now wary, her dark eyes flicking from me to Aishe. “What do you want here, Mage? Answer me!”
“I search for one I mean to destroy,” I said. “I tracked him here. Perhaps you’ve heard of him? Or seen him? He’s a tall seela, broad with a thick chest and arms. He grows his black hair long and might have a shaggy, black beard. He’s cold, cruel, and has a voice that could freeze a boygle’s heart. His name is Lazur Freydsson.”
The lady seemed to freeze at the mention of my father’s name. Then she slowly straightened and let the axe fall and dangle from one hand. “You would be the Morgorth, the Dark Mage of the East, then.”
Now it was my turn to be wary. I eyed her closely, feeling dread slither around my guts. A sense of foreboding settled upon me. “It would seem you know who I am, lady. But who are you?”
Her smile was bitter. She set the axe head on the ground, then leaned upon it. She placed one hand belligerently on her cocked hip. “Why Morgorth, I’m a little hurt you don’t see the family resemblance.”
The dread became darker. “Explain yourself,” I whispered.
Her smile spread across a sharp, bird-like face, and her dark eyes flickered with a strange, almost manic joy. She suddenly looked acutely familiar, but I was certain I’d never seen her before in my life. “My name is Lorelei. My mother is Matylde. My father is who you seek to destroy.”
I froze.
She tilted her head slightly. “I’m your half-sister, Morgorth. And I’d like to help you destroy that bastard in any way I can.”
