by R. E. Palmer
‘Ah!’ Hope stopped. ‘We’re close.’ Toryn chose not to question. She peered at a wood a short distance ahead. ‘Yes, in there.’ He stared into the evening gloom, relieved to see the familiar outlines of elms and oaks, and not the tall, harsh spikes of the dreaded Wyke Wood. Toryn shivered and followed Hope, looking forward to the welcome touch of a Singing or Echo Stone. He pulled up. What if the evil that had destroyed the stone in the cave, had discovered the one Hope believed lay within the wood? But she kept on undeterred towards the trees. Toryn followed. Both he and Hamar had sensed the ill as they had approached the damaged stone in the cave. But this time he felt good, better in fact than he had for many days. The stone had to be near.
Hope stopped at the tree line. Toryn tried to see what awaited them inside, but could see nothing in the darkness beneath the heavy boughs. Without asking, Hope took his hands as she had when evading their pursuers. She closed her eyes and spoke in a low voice. Toryn recognized a pattern of repeating words as if she called upon another. He closed his eyes, welcoming the heat emanating from her hands. Hope’s words lulled him from the chill night. The cold released its grip on his limbs as he drew sweet, warm air deep into his lungs.
Faint at first, a single female voice answered. Toryn’s scalp prickled. Deep down, he instinctively knew it came from a far-off place, from a different time. Tears filled his eyes as his spirits soared, but for what reason he knew not. Another, then another voice joined the first, harmonizing, weaving their song around each other. Hope replied. She spoke, but it sounded to Toryn as if another sang with her.
‘Keep your eyes closed, Toryn.’ She released one hand and placed the other on his shoulder as she led him forward. He took three steps, feeling as if he walked through a warm waterfall, washing him clean of the world he left behind. ‘Now you can open them.’ Toryn obliged and gasped.
They stood at the edge of the wood, but not a wood with dark trees as before. Silvery trunks and branches glowed under a thousand stars gleaming in a cloudless sky. His mouth dropped open as his eyes wandered across the star-speckled ceiling of this new realm. They shone with an intensity, true and bright, as they must have done at the time of their birth. Toryn blinked away tears, keen to let the starlight flood into his soul. Hope smiled. ‘You should close your mouth. The wood is teeming with fireflies, starwings and leaflaps.’ She laughed. 'And while they are beautiful to behold, I cannot vouch for their taste.’ Toryn studied her face for the first time since entering the wood. To his astonishment, she now appeared many years younger in the starlight.
Hope raised an eyebrow along with her hand. ‘This way.’ She led him through the glimmering trees, shedding a faint light on a path winding its way deep into the wood. A gentle breeze brought the leaves to life, rustling as if joining the distant voices of the song echoing through time. About them, insects buzzed in abundance, some with gossamer-thin wings flickering with all the colors of a rainbow, others with bodies glistening as if a faint star shone within.
Hope touched his arm. ‘What we seek lies at the center. We cannot tarry for long. The way is open for only a brief time.’ Toryn turned and followed a path leading them one way, then another, even doubling back. They walked for what seemed like centuries happening in a blink of an eye. How long it took, Toryn had not a clue, but the path eventually reached a clearing. A spiral of smooth steppingstones led up to a low mound of lush grass glistening silver in the starlight. At the center of the mound stood a black rock pointing to the night sky. Toryn’s feet tingled as he stepped onto the first stone. He walked behind Hope as she glided around the spiral to step onto the mound.
Hope held his hand, took him to the stone and placed it against the smooth surface. He tipped back his head and drank in the warmth emanating from the rock and surging up his arm. She sang a greeting, and the stone replied, pulsing slow and strong as if an echo of the land’s beating heart, deep beneath their feet.
Toryn watched the transformed Hope. Her gray eyes shone with an ancient wisdom set within a youthful face of dark skin as smooth as the surface of the stone. Whether it was a trick of the starlight or magic, her clothes looked different. The tattered rags had gone, replaced by a thin cotton shift, shimmering like the air she had drawn about them on the ridge. Toryn checked his own clothing and laughed. The baggy, itchy cloth of the prison cell had gone, replaced by the same fine cotton worn by Hope. He blinked hard, convinced he must be dreaming. But he was most definitely awake, more awake than he had ever been in his life.
Hope noticed his bemusement and smiled. She circled the stone, running her fingers lightly across its surface as she sang softly. Where she touched, it glimmered, releasing specks of light. The lights floated briefly before fading like sparks from a fire. Hope completed her circuit and stood opposite Toryn. ‘Shall we sit?’ She gestured to a patch of grass beside a stream. The urge to sleep welled up as soon as he sat on the soft ground. Hope stroked his cheek. ‘Lie back and let it take you.’
But Toryn resisted. ‘There’s something I have to know.’
Hope raised her hand. ‘Now is not the time. You must rest, as must I. A dark force has done you great harm, far beyond my powers to heal in my present state. Sleep, and this place will undo the wrong.’
Toryn could not hold back the wave of sleep a moment longer. Despite the questions forming in his head, he lay on the soft grass and let the night take him to places he longed to see.
Toryn sat, unaware of how long he had slept. Above, the stars shone with such intensity he felt sure he could feel their light settling on his face. He ran his fingers across the warm grass, stretched and took a deep breath, relieved the coldness inside had gone. Pictures of home flooded back as the fog in his head had cleared. He stood and felt the aches drop away from his body.
Hope appeared at the edge of the clearing. Toryn watched in awe as she gracefully skipped across the stones to the mound. She stepped up and held out her hands. ‘Here, eat. You’ll find these most nourishing.’ He reached out and took a handful of berries and gratefully placed them in his mouth. As they burst on his tongue, the sweet juice seemed to reach every part of his body.
Hope laughed. ‘You should see your face.’ She stepped closer and ran her soft hand across his cheek and down to his chin. ‘Ah! I see the stone has healed. You are free of the seeds of evil. And’ — she looked deep into his eyes — ‘stirred the latent power within.’ Hope nodded to the ground. ‘Have you not noticed? You are taller.’ She touched his shoulders. ‘And broader.’
Toryn glanced down. He assumed Hope stood lower on the slope, but her feet were on the same level. ‘Ha! So, I am. By almost a full hand.’
Hope’s eyes shone. ‘The power focused here can help and nurture in more ways than one.’
Toryn beamed. ‘And how about you? You’re… younger, so much younger.’
She held out her arms and ran a hand up the smooth skin of her forearm. ‘That I am.’
‘Will you stay this way? Or will you change back when we leave?’
Her eyes wandered to the stone. ‘Alas, I believe I will change. My life is a long walk in and out of thick fog. Of my past, I have little knowledge. The stones rejuvenate but it is short-lived. I will soon return to my confused state once back in the land governed by time.’
Toryn finished the last of the berries. ‘Where are we? We must be in Darrow, but Hamar never spoke of a place like this.’
‘This wood lies in our land but is not of our land. It exists outside of time, not ravaged by the elements that age and mar the world in which we live.’ She walked to the stone. ‘These were set long before we came into this world, but by whose hand, I know not.’
Toryn enjoyed the warmth growing under his hand as he rested his palm next to Hope’s. ‘What is their purpose?’
She interlocked her fingers with his. ‘I can only guess, but I believe they protect the land from a force craving to corrupt all that lives. They number seven, stretching far to the north, south, east and west. Each has—�
�� She gasped and withdrew her hand. ‘You are right. One is no more. Now I have rested, I feel the pain in this stone.’ Hope bowed her head. ‘How did I not know of this? I appear to grow weaker as the power in the stones wane.’
Toryn felt her loss. ‘That must explain how Hamar and the guards could find them.’
‘They have long remained hidden from the mortal world. This does not bode well.’ She placed both hands on the stone and closed her eyes. Her hands glowed as she whispered a few words. In the following silence, Toryn thought he heard a faint reply. Hope sighed, letting her hands drop. She turned to Toryn. Her eyes shone briefly like starlight. She smiled. ‘The Foundation Stone, the most powerful, lies far to the north. The exact location eludes me, but I can still sense its power. We stand by the second stone, untainted, hence the old knowledge is required to enter its domain.’
‘And you have this old knowledge?’
‘Apparently so, but much I have forgotten, and my time here has yet to reveal what I seek. And I will not know what I seek until I find it.’ The few lines on her forehead deepened. ‘A shadow lies across my past, a shadow I suspect created by myself for my protection. And for that reason, I cannot recall why.’
Toryn took her hand. ‘I never got the chance to thank you for rescuing me. There was a woman in the wood, Uleva. Is she part of the force seeking to destroy these stones?’
Hope shuddered. ‘I know not the name.’ She walked to the edge of the knoll. ‘But it is an evil name, one bestowed upon her by the wrong this stone resists. They are the Ul-dalak.’ She turned back to Toryn and gripped his hand. ‘This woman, Uleva, must serve the dark powers of this world.’
‘The Song? Ul-dalak? The more you tell, the less I understand.’
‘Then allow me to explain. Standing beside this stone sheds a little light into the shadows concealing my past, sufficient perhaps for me to answer some of your questions.’ Hope guided him to sit. She dipped her fingers along with Toryn’s in the cool water. She spoke above the sound of the babbling stream. ‘The water, air, rock and even the trees, resonate with the echo from the Song of Creation sang at the dawn of time. Every newborn creature, every object made, every event, becomes part of the Song, adding its own verse.’ Hope tilted her head. ‘Listen carefully, and it’s still possible to hear. Yet many are unaware of the harmonies flowing through the land. As mortals leave childhood, they soon become distracted by the hardship of day-to-day life and allow the wonders of the world to pass them by. But the echo remains, and while it’s ever changing as the passage of time adds more, the original, very first verse sang, still lies at its heart.’
Toryn's face tingled. ‘It’s true? The Three Maidens are real?’
‘Whether it is as the tale maintains, or if it came from a desire for order, I do not know. But I hear three voices in the early verses of the Song.’
Toryn’s pulse quickened. ‘Have you heard the first?’
‘No, not as yet. Of my past I can recall, I know I am from an order who seek the first verse, sung by pure voices, unsullied by the evil that followed. We believe if we can recite the first lines once more, completing the circle of creation, we can be forever rid of the dark forces, shutting them out, and thus removing their influence.’
Toryn wriggled his fingers in the cool water. ‘Back at the farmhouse, you remembered something about my father. Could he also serve the same powers as you?’
‘I believe he must.’
‘Can you hear his voice? In the Song?’
‘I’m afraid I cannot. He is lost to me.’ Hope saw Toryn’s shoulders slump. ‘He may yet live, but in a dark place beyond my skill to locate.’
Hope cupped her hands and lifted them from the stream, letting the water trickle through her fingers. ‘If your father is one of my kind, I believe you too can hear these voices, the echoes from a distant time.’ She led his gaze up to the stars. ‘All that has gone before is woven into the Song; joy, sorrow; kind acts and cruel acts; creation and destruction. Past, present, and what has yet to come, make themselves known — if you know how to listen.’
Toryn laughed. ‘My mother! Hamar said she couldn’t hold a tune to save her life, but I thought she sang when I had the Winter Fever. I must have heard voices from this song of yours.’
She caught his eye. ‘And maybe other times?’
‘At the stone. I woke to the sound of a voice like a Maiden. But later, in the dark wood, I heard harsh whispers, barely what you’d call singing.’
Hope sighed. ‘Alas, there are other voices, the fell voices of the Ul-dalak sowing discord to create the Dark Verses to corrupt the Song. But beware, much of what you hear are false verses, that at first, sound pure, yet they will entice you to places to entrap and darken your spirit until eventually you’ll be lost and in its thrall. The one you name Uleva is one such follower.’ She glanced down to the stream. ‘And I suspect, she could have once been one such as me.’
A shadow passed over Toryn’s thoughts. ‘When I first saw her, I thought I saw a sadness in her eyes, even remorse.’ He shuddered. Uleva’s moist, black eyes filled his vision, and despite the proximity of the stone, Toryn sensed they would eagerly suck the life from his flesh and bones. He shook the image free. ‘But it soon passed, and she changed…’ he turned away.
Hope took his hand. ‘You are strong, Toryn. Most would not have survived such an encounter. These creatures wield a most deadly power, and we must find a way to resist, or they will soon be victorious.’
Toryn stiffened as the reality of the world outside found him. ‘I saw another wyke, Uldrak, poison the rock beneath our feet, and Uleva conjure witches from the air.’
Hope stood and dried her hands on her shift. ‘I know not this word, wyke. But Uldrak must number among the ranks of the Ul-dalak. They are able to bring things from the past to the present, things that should never see the light of day again. The Ul-dalak also unmake objects, and indeed people, if they locate their origin and alter their verse.’ Her head dropped. ‘I believe I have witnessed such callous acts. A man can be plucked from his time if his birth can be unmade.’
‘Do you have such power?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, but not to such an extent. That is how I hid us at the ridge. I recited the verse from the previous day to bring it to the time in which we stood. Our pursuers would therefore see it as it would have been prior to our arrival.’ Her brow creased. ‘But compared to pulling spirits from the distant past, mine was a mere jester’s trick, I wouldn’t know where to begin to resist the force threatening these stones. And you saw how I could maintain my deception for but a short time.’
Toryn climbed to his feet. ‘But the Archon tells us he holds back the dark forces with his gate? Is that not true?’
‘Apparently not. There are ancient powers still roaming this land. If a more formidable enemy lies behind this gate, it must stand firm.’
Toryn stared into the stream. ‘Then we are in danger. At the mines, I heard of an attack on the gate. Should they break through, we’ll be trapped in the middle of two evil foes. Could they be in league with each other?’ He looked back to the stone. ‘And if the power in these grows weak, how will we fight back against such a destructive force?’
Hope took his hand. ‘Then we must petition this Archon of which you speak, for aid. We cannot allow another stone to fall.’
Toryn straightened. ‘Hamar, my old friend, says the Archon has immense power and commands the largest armies in the land.’
‘Then come. It is time to leave. Please refill my flask from the stream, it will give us strength for our journey.’ She walked to the edge of the grass and placed her foot onto the first stepping-stone. ‘You must take me to his city but beware I will diminish by dawn. I believe the old woman you see is a disguise to protect myself from the forces that would otherwise sense my presence.’
‘Won’t it be morning outside?’
‘Not yet. No time has passed since we entered. It will still be twilight, as cold and wet as we left
it.’
Toryn's heart sank as he turned from the stone. ‘Wait. Did the stone reveal your name? I would like to know what to call you.’
A wry smile spread across her lips. ‘Sadly, no. I am named by the Song, but it’s kept from me by the shadow obscuring my past. It matters not. I have grown fond of the name you gave me. Hope will suffice for now.’
Stepping out of the timeless wood had felt like a slap in the face as the cold, wet evening begrudgingly tolerated their return. With every step, Toryn’s memory of the mystical place slipped further from his grasp is if it had been a dream. He had turned back to see a dark wood bearing no resemblance to the one they had entered. And as hard as he had tried, much of the time spent among the trees evaded recall. And if the sudden cold was not enough to dampen Toryn’s spirits, the clothes they had worn in the wood had vanished, leaving them in their dirty rags as before. But he noticed they were tighter; he had at least retained his taller, broader frame, serving as proof he had not imagined all that had happened in the wood.
Toryn fixed his eyes ahead. He had done his best to lead the straightest route to Archonholm using Hamar’s map etched in his mind. In the rare moments the sun had broken through the low cloud, he would take a bearing and head south and slightly eastward. Towards the end of the second day since leaving the wood, the setting sun had shed its red light on a dark line to the east: the jagged peaks of the Kolossos. Toryn had quickly sought for signs of the mountain he knew so well, but suspected Caranach still lay some distance to the south. However, their progress had slowed as they had ventured further from the stone. Hope had fully reverted to the bent-backed, muddled old woman. Like Hamar, Toryn had stayed off the well-trodden paths and roads, hoping to avoid the odd, rare traveler. But now he pondered whether to march into a village, demand to see the marshal, and insist on an escort to take them to Archonholm. But who would believe two bedraggled strangers dressed in clothes fit for a dungeon? Worse still, strangers who spoke of magic stones and dangerous verses from a song.
