Broken Earth

by C M Blackwood

  “I hope that I shall,” answered Lila, turning away to exit the chamber. She had gotten as far as the doorway, when Heidi spoke once more, and called her attention back for a moment.

  “Princess?”

  Lila looked over her shoulder; but instead of asking what it was she had spoken for, said simply:

  “You needn’t call me that, you know.”

  Heidi’s brow furrowed. “Then what shall I call you?”

  “By my name, I suppose.”

  Her cheeks flushed bright pink, and she nodded shortly.

  Lila realised, then, that Heidi had had nothing more to say. It was only her own presence, soon to be alone there in that grey chamber, that had made her speak out.

  “Until we meet again,” said Lila.

  Heidi nodded once more; and Lila faced back to the doorway. She passed out into the corridor, and made her hurried way to the staircase. On the ground floor, she turned towards the South Door, and set her course to the stables for the collection of Sonya.

  XXV: The Uproar in the Upshot

  Biscayne spent the whole of the night in his own chamber, afraid to go back to Zana. He wished not to know the result of her meeting with the Sorceress; and wished not to witness the presence of the Auren there in her bed, lying in sickness while Zana kept watch in the chair beside her.

  He had not the faculties to settle the situation. If it had been any other than Zana – well, they should most likely have already been executed. But he could not! The very thought set him to shaking, and he pulled the sheets more tightly around him as he lay with his eyes shut tight; the King of the Mountain unable to face the day.

  It was not long after when there came a knock at his door. He groaned, and detangled himself from the sheets, then marched to the door with every intention of threatening the knocker with death. But when he opened the door, he fell immediately back into helplessness. He looked at Zana, standing there upon the threshold, and swallowed the considerable amount of surprise that he felt to see her alive.

  “Zana!” he exclaimed. “What happened?”

  She waved a hand. “Never mind that now. We have more important things to attend to.”

  His mind set immediately to suspicion, but he granted her silence to continue.

  “The Auren is gone,” she said simply.

  “Tell me that you are jesting.”

  “Have you ever known me to jest?” she asked, shouldering past him into the chamber. She pulled the door closed, looking down either side of the hallway before she did so; and then came to stand before Biscayne, her face the very image of guiltlessness.

  “What have you done, Zana?”

  She set her eyes against him. “What have I done?” she echoed. “Oh, Biscayne – surely you cannot be that ignorant? Tell me, what would I stand to gain from such a thing?”

  “It is obvious you have taken a liking to the girl,” he said. “I only hope that it has not gone so far as I suspect.”

  “She could not have escaped on her own,” Zana went on, taking care to pass over Biscayne’s accusation. “And I have been away, dealing with your petty master.”

  “Hold your tongue,” Biscayne hissed, looking all about them as if he expected the Sorceress suddenly to appear. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  Zana laughed. “Now who is jesting?”

  “Zana,” said Biscayne, his voice taking on a pleading note; “don’t you see that I cannot protect you from your folly? There is only so much I can do, when you press yourself this way betwixt myself and the Sorceress. Why do you taunt her as you do? Do you wish to see your own death?”

  “Do not concern yourself,” said Zana. “It is no matter of yours.”

  Biscayne stood open-mouthed, hanging in the balance betwixt incredulity and indignation. It was a situation in which he often found himself, as he looked upon Zana. Should he profess his love for her – or throttle her mercilessly?

  “May we please look to the matter at hand?” asked Zana; and it was clear that her request was meant to be conciliatory.

  Biscayne flexed his fists down by his sides, and did what he could to shake off the offence. Then he took a breath, and asked, “How long ago did you return?”

  “I arrived only moments before I called upon you.”

  “There was no sign, no clue as to where she might have gone?”

  “None. I tried on my way to you to track her; but she has put up a barrier round herself. She is regaining some of her strength.”

  “If we don’t find her quickly,” said Biscayne, placing his face only inches from Zana’s, “then we shall both die.”

  She looked upon him with neither fear nor acceptance of blame; and turned to depart.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded, voice raised to a near-shout.

  “I am going to find Pesha,” she answered.

  “Why do you seek Pesha?”

  “Is it not obvious?”

  He only glared.

  “And who else can you think of,” said Zana, closing her eyes in search of Pesha’s heartbeat, “who would risk the peril of showing the Auren from the Mountain?”

  “Wait, now,” Biscayne ordered, closing his hand round Zana’s arm. “You cannot accuse her of such a thing, without proof.”

  Zana laughed in his face. “You are weak,” she said. “Though I favoured your father no better, I must admit that he was the stronger of you.”

  With no warning, and with no intention, Biscayne brought his palm down against Zana’s face – with no less force than would accompany the drop of a boulder from a mountaintop. She recoiled hardly at all; but with a look upon her face that meant nothing less than murder, she disappeared from Biscayne’s sight.

  ~

  With her wrath transferred equally, now, between Pesha and Biscayne, Zana tracked the former into the depths of the Mountain. Each time she honed in upon her heartbeat, and arrived in the spot where it had last pumped so irregularly, she found that she had skipped her out once again. She was moving in fear, fear of the repercussion of Zana’s ire; but it was only a matter of time until she shifted just a moment too late; and Zana would come upon her like a mighty vengeful wind, blowing over her so forcefully that she might not even survive her coming.

  Yet Zana had to commend her; it was a full thirty minutes later when she finally found her, doubled over breathlessly in the corner of her own chamber.

  “Wished to die in your own bed, did you?” asked Zana.

  “Please, Zana,” she begged, holding up both of her hands, and so weary with the exercise of racing against her adversary that she could scarcely speak. “Please – let me explain.”

  “There is nothing to explain. You let her escape, so that I might be blamed for the deed. You knew that all fingers would point towards me.”

  Pesha began to straighten up, with just a little more confidence creeping its way into her hateful face. “You speak true,” she said. “All will choose you for the deed. Even now, standing before me so angrily, what has changed? If you kill me, you will surely be executed. And none will believe that, over you, I had anything at all to do with the witch’s escape.”

  “I may not be able to convince anyone of you,” said Zana; “but you forget who rules this Mountain. It is not I – and therefore the responsibility of your punishment does not fall upon me. But think on this, Pesha. Do you really believe that Biscayne will choose to fault me in your place?”

  The truth of these words sank upon Pesha like a stone round her neck; and she began drowning in her own mislaid designs. The sight of it was almost more pleasure than Zana could bear.

  “Perhaps,” she said, moving just a little nearer to Pesha, “if you follow my directions to an absolute point, I can find a way to pardon you in the King’s sight. And – even more importantly – in the eyes of the Sorceress.”

  At the mention of Aerca, Pesha began to tremble visibly. She looked beseechingly to Zana, fully aware that the tables had turned upon her.

  “Liste
n to me carefully,” said Zana. “You will tell me exactly what you did, and you will do all you can to help me find that girl – before the Sorceress does.”

  “Of course,” said Pesha quickly, clutching to Zana’s arm in a last, desperate attempt at appeasement. “I will do whatever you say, Zana.”

  “That you will, Pesha. And in so doing, perhaps you can save your own head from the chopping block.”

  Pesha began to weep, and fell down on her knees. She clutched at Zana’s hands, and buried her face in her crimson gown. “Please,” she begged, sobbing and moaning and – in Zana’s opinion – making a complete and irrevocable fool of herself. “Please forgive me, Zana.”

  “I still may,” said Zana. “It depends, of course, upon the outcome of our search. You had better pray to whatever gods there are – if there are indeed any who heed to the supplications of creatures such as ourselves – that we find the Auren before she arrives at Onssgaard.”

  ~

  Prince Antony lay upon the floor of his cell, shivering against the bitter cold that surrounded him, but unable to return any kind of warmth to his body through motion. He lay upon his stomach, head turned to the side so that his cheek pressed to the stone. His wrists and ankles were bound; and had been thus since the evening prior, when Dain Aerca left him. He could see her face before him even now, contorted in a rage for whose cause he knew nothing.

  He was asleep when she came to him, and was awaked by the crashing of the cell door against the wall. She swept into the room like a wave, the entirety of her emotion being projected out to either side of her, and moving with her so that the breadth of her presence seemed much more than the space taken up by her physical form. She pulled Antony down from his bench, produced hard cords from the very air, and used them to bind him tightly. After mere seconds, their biting pain was more than he could bear. He screamed out as she pulled them tighter, and she laughed as she worked. When she presented her face to him again, she looked as if his suffering had cheered her greatly. The immense shadow had dropped down from her shoulders, and had flown away for now to some place where Antony could not see it.

  He begged her, please, to let him loose; but she refused, with a look of absolute joy upon her face. And then she departed.

  Now, lying upon the cold stone, with horrible sensations that alternated every so often between pain and numbness, Antony wished even for the fearsome shadow that had followed her into the cell. Yes, he wished even for that – if it only meant that he could be free again. Now that he found himself in such intense discomfort and pain, he realised that he had taken his previous, relative good fortune entirely for granted.

  He pulled once more upon the cords, writhing mightily against their terrible bondage. But he only succeeded in filling the cell with the loud, distinct sound of the snapping of his wrist; and he felt the steady flow of the blood come down from the wound, to pour across his limp fingers and pool there beneath him upon the stone.

  “Lila!” he screamed out, weeping strongly as he felt his hand flop back and forth upon its lifeless wrist. He continued to call her name, over and over; knowing, of course, that she could not hear him; but pretending for just a moment that she could, for she was truly the only one who could save him. So, if only in an attempt to mend his own broken mind, he screamed to his sister for many long minutes. He half expected a guard to come and silence him; but no one ever came.

  ~

  After her meeting with Zana, Dain Aerca was so certain that the Master would come for her, she did not even dare to lie down upon the bed. She only sat at the table, lost to her own thoughts, but ever and anon looking up to eye the Sphere, which still hung just below the ceiling in a corner of the room.

  “I’ve no need of you, anyway,” she said scornfully.

  The Sphere floated a little closer; but when she spoke again, this time much more loudly, it scurried back to its corner.

  “I said, I do not want to see!” she cried.

  She had just returned from her visit with Antony Bier; and though the sight of his pain had lifted her spirits for a moment or two, she was now fallen back to that place she had arrived at with Zana’s departure.

  It did not help her anxiety, that the night was beginning to wear thin, and that the Master had not yet come for her. What did it mean?

  Though she knew not straightaway for good or ill, her questions were put to an end just before the rising of the sun. He appeared beside her just as she was beginning to drowse, with her head dropped down into her hands; and she snapped awake immediately, rising to stand before him.

  “Master,” she said, making him a low bow.

  He wore no mask this day. Dain tried with all her might to suppress the fear and disgust that she felt at the sight of him; and it was all she could do not to scream, when he reached out to lay a hand upon her shoulder.

  “I sensed your unrest,” he said, looking searchingly into her eyes. “I have come to ask after its cause.”

  Though she was tempted, she dared not lie to him. “It is only the Auren,” she said. “Only a suspicion concerning her keeping. It is nothing to worry over – I promise you, Master.”

  “I put great faith in the words you speak to me,” he said. “I trust that you would not bend the truth for me, Sorceress?”

  “Never.”

  He patted her shoulder, and settled himself in the chair across from her. “You have done well. After all, why would you offer me an untruth? You know that I see all.”

  “Of course, Master,” said Dain, grateful to take her seat once again.

  He used a hand to call the Sphere back to the table, and set it carefully in its rightful position. He looked at Dain questioningly.

  “I fear that my temper has gotten the best of me this evening,” she said.

  “It is only to be expected, my child. We have much work ahead of us; and it does naught of service to us, when things which we have already accomplished begin to go awry.”

  Dain said nothing, but merely nodded.

  “Yes, my dear,” he went on, running an enormous, scaled hand over the smooth glass of the Sphere. “There is so much to do! And I fear that we must begin to put our shoulders to it; for there is not much time left to us.”

  “Of course, Master,” Dain repeated. She sank down wearily in her chair; for there was a heavy blackness upon her heart.

  ~

  The moment Zana left him, Biscayne hurried to find Lokin. He came upon him with a group of young females; and much to his disappointment, pulled him hastily away from them.

  “What is this all about, now?” he demanded, shaking his fist in Biscayne’s face.

  “Calm yourself, brother,” said Biscayne, doing what he could to catch his own racing breath. “I am in need of your help.”

  Lokin sobered visibly, and waited patiently for Biscayne to go on.

  “The Auren has escaped,” he said.

  A great array of expressions passed across Lokin’s face; and Biscayne suspected that none cast his King in a much favourable light. Yet he spoke only:

  “Tell me what to do, and I shall help you as best I can.”

  “We know that she is heading for Eredor,” said Biscayne. “It seems that we will not gain her before she arrives there; so the best that we can do, I suppose, is to post as many sentries as possible round the boundary of the city. We must intercept her before she reaches the gate.”

  Lokin nodded. “I will send the company immediately.”

  “Thank you, brother,” said Biscayne, shaking his hand firmly. He watched as Lokin strode quickly away, with great purpose in his stride; yet it did little to soothe Biscayne’s own troubled heart.

  This was a miserable, miserable business.

  ~

  Jade travelled for many hours without pause, running quite as quickly as she could towards her destination, which was still some ways up ahead. What with the sunlight shining warm upon her face, and the feel of the earth springing back against her feet, she was beginning to feel muc
h like her old self. This filled her with so much joy, she could only run the faster for it; and she began to anticipate arriving at Eredor with more excitement than dread. She was sure of the fact that Heidi was there, but that fact had only served previously to inspire some amount of doubt in her. How could she hope to explain it all to her? She had no answer to that question, and grew steadily more worried, as the miles fell away.

  But now, as her time in the tunnels of the Mountain began to seem as nothing but a distant dream, she ran with a spirit quite as free as the wind that carried her. Who knew? Perhaps there was no such thing, after all, as the terrible creature the likes of which she had imagined! Yes, yes – perhaps it had all been nothing but a long and horrible dream. But now she was awake, and was sprinting in the likeness of flight towards victory.

  Her confidence was mounting so high, she could think of little else but Heidi. Only hours before, she had been almost afraid to call her to mind, certain that her presence there in the thoughts of the creature she had become was not worthy. But now she closed her eyes as she ran, holding her face inside her mind, and using it to increase her speed almost double.

  When her heart began to feel so full that it could hold no more, there came a strange and distinct explosion which originated somewhere inside her chest. It flowed out like water, enveloping her body, and dimming the world around her; sweeping her nearly off her feet, and dragging her headfirst through a swirling tunnel of colour.

  When the world became still again, she took a moment or two to collect herself, before opening her eyes; for she was plagued temporarily by an intense nausea, and a tearing headache that felt as a dagger piercing into her brain. Finally, though, she examined her surroundings as best she could; but she could not deny that she had no idea at all where she was. She gathered only that she stood within a long corridor of stone, and one lit none too brightly by lamps in the falling dusk.

  She was standing directly before a wide door, made of ancient wood set into the white stone that made up the wall. There was an intricate, wrought-iron handle on its left-hand side. A lamp that burnt low beside the door.