Resurrection of an Empire: The Magic Within (The Magic Within Series Book 2)

by Sharon Gibbs

  Doran smiled at Athena.

  ‘All you have told me is how a woman turned into a tree,’ Athena said.

  ‘You’re missing the point.’ Doran then quoted the passage from her book.

  ‘From the essence of all with the gift, is how we shall create a new world and then cast the evil within to be banished for all eternity. It is to the essence he shall be bound, for even death shall not find him to release him from his bondage.’

  ‘So the one I seek is tied to this tree?’

  ‘Yes,’ Doran said. ‘Metaphorically speaking.’

  ‘And where does one find this tree?’

  ‘To the west on the road travelling north, just past the desert sands, so I believe the story says.’

  ‘Good. Tomorrow you will leave and find the tree, and you’ll not return until you have knowledge of its whereabouts,’ Athena said as she climbed out of bed and cloaked herself in her robe. She wandered over to soak in the warmth of the fire.

  ‘Athena, it’s merely a story,’ Doran said as he sat up. ‘It probably doesn’t exist.’

  ‘You will find this tree. And I don’t care if it takes a month or a year, or until you’re old and grey. While you have breath in your body, until the day your body gives out and the birds settle to feast upon your flesh, you will search for the tree. For your sake I hope it exists, or you’ll wander in search of it for all of eternity.’

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The harness jangled as the horses strode forward and pulled the wagon from the barn. Covered with a canvas to keep its contents protected, the wagon had been packed with the necessities for an extended journey.

  Terrin heaved on the reins to bring the wagon to a halt in front of the stairs where Athena waited with his travelling companion. Doran stomped down the stairs and slung his pack behind the driver’s seat.

  ‘All ready, Miss,’ Terri proudly announced to Athena, still unaware of their destination.

  ‘Good, and Doran you will not stray from your task. There will be no meandering in taverns and villages along the way.’

  Doran forced his lips into a crude smile and tipped his hat. ‘The lady wishes us to find her a tree, Terrin. So a tree we shall find,’ he said as he climbed to his seat. He took the reins from his partner and gave them a flick and the horses pulled ahead and passed through the gates.

  ‘A tree. What kind of a tree?’ Terrin asked as he scratched his head.

  ‘A tree which is one of a kind.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said as they passed by Minnow woods and soft pines. ‘So do you know what this tree looks like?’

  ‘No, but the lady insists on us finding this particular tree and we’re not to return until we have knowledge of where it grows.’

  ‘So you don’t know what this tree looks like, but when you see it you will know.’

  ‘Exactly. It will be a tree unlike any other.’

  ‘So where are we headed?’

  ‘North, along the narrow road used by travellers for the past thousand years.’

  Satisfied with his answer, although still unsure of how they would find the tree, Terrin remained silent and they both settled into the rhythmic rocking of the wagon as their journey began.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The wind blew from the south to permeate the makeshift shelter where Doran and Terrin huddled by a small fire.

  ‘I thought the weather was supposed to be warmer the further north you travelled,’ Terrin said as he threw another log on the fire and tucked the blanket around himself to keep the chill at bay.

  ‘It will be soon, it’s still early winter, Terrin. Once we near the desert sands the weather will warm and you will wish for a cool breeze.’

  ‘So, Doran, I was thinkin’ how are we gonna find our way across the desert?’

  ‘The north road leads to a village not far from where the sands shift and swirl. It’s there we’ll cross and make our way towards the stony glades.’

  ‘Have you been through there before?’ Terrin asked, seeking assurance that Doran actually knew where they were going.

  ‘Terrin, I’ve travelled from north to south many times before. Don’t worry, I know the way.’

  ‘So if you’ve been that way before, why have you never seen the tree?

  ‘The desert sands shift with time and the road we travel now probably isn’t the same road that was used when the tree was first planted. Once we’ve made our way across the desert we will have to search to find the tree.’

  ‘Search! That could take forever!’

  ‘Yes, unfortunately it could, but I have a feeling luck will be on our side on this journey and hopefully it won’t take too long to locate the tree. Besides, there’s an old woman in the village where we will stop to collect supplies. She is said to be a seer of souls and we shall pay her a visit. Hopefully she can guide us in the right direction.’

  Terrin too was hopeful. He didn’t relish the thought of roaming a wasteland searching for a tree. Placing another log on the fire, he stoked the coals to provide a little extra warmth. Sparks shot up into the night sky and Terrin settled down next to the fire to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Doran slowed the wagon as they approached the ramshackle hut he was told belonged to the Seer. Pulling up on the edge of the track, he tied the team of horses to a nearby tree before they made their way towards the small house.

  ‘You sure we should go in there?’ Terrin asked as they approached the front of the building. He was worried about the stories he’d heard last night in the tavern. After restocking their supplies they’d eaten in the local establishment. Making ready to leave, Terrin had overheard Doran ask the man behind the counter about the Seer. In return for the price of a few coins he told Doran where the mystic lived and how many who’d visited the old woman had been told gruesome tales of their pending death. A local woman in the tavern had also overheard their conversation and told Doran the tale of when the Seer had first settled near the village.

  Upon her arrival the old woman had kept to herself but as people became accustomed to her presence she began to help those in need with her mystical remedies. But upon the purchase of her products, if the seer knew the fate of the person, she couldn’t help but tell them of their pending death. Excited by the tales, the villagers gossiped about the old woman until eventually one day one of her forecasts came true. The village turned on the woman and her stories were embellished until eventually the villagers came to believe the old woman had cursed them to die these horrible deaths. She became an outcast, shunned by the people of the village and only in times of desperate need did anyone secretly visit her abode.

  As they stood outside the seer’s home, Terrin remembered the woman from the tavern’s words vividly and he was fearful the old woman would tell him of his death. The house was constructed of branches cut from the nearby forest and bound together with twisted vines. The roof was thatched with bushels of straw which over time had weathered and turned a silvery grey. Upon the small porch an old rickety chair sat empty, waiting for the old woman to venture out and take in the afternoon sun. Near the chair stood a jar of small white objects, some of which had been strung together and hung from the eaves of the desiccated house, and as the wind caught the trinkets they clinked together forming a melody of sorts. Terrin, hearing the melodic tune, imagined them to be the bones of the dead calling him forth.

  ‘You sure we should see the old woman?’ he asked Doran again.

  ‘If we are to find the tree this will be the quickest way. If she has knowledge of its whereabouts it will save us months, even years of searching. Do you want to be out here forever?’

  ‘No, Doran, you’re right,’ he said. As Doran stepped onto the porch a dog barked from within the shanty.

  ‘Who be there?’ the old woman called before he’d had the chance to knock.

  Terrin glanced uneasily at Doran as his boss replied to the old woman’s call. ‘Two travellers who seek guidance in their quest.’

  T
he dog growled as his mistress moved towards the door, and Doran took a step back on the porch. A thump followed by a scraping sound could be heard from within the house as the old woman hobbled towards the portal. The handle turned and then the wooden door creaked as it eased open.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ Doran greeted the woman who stood back in the shadows of the room. Terrin leant to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the mystic but was unable to see past Doran into the depths of the hut.

  ‘People rarely come here anymore,’ the old woman said as she stood waiting for the men to ask what they would.

  ‘I’ve heard you’re a woman of many talents—’

  ‘Out with it, lad. I don’t have all day. Ask what you will.’

  ‘I’m on a quest to find a tree,’ Doran said, ‘and I’d hoped you’d be able to tell me where I might find it.’

  It was an unusual question which intrigued the Seer. A tree! Why on earth would someone ask her about a tree? ‘I know nothing about trees, boy,’ she said. ‘On your way now.’

  Doran removed a purse from beneath his cloak and tipped two golden coins into his palm. ‘Would this gain us entry to your abode so you will hear me out?’

  ‘Who’s that fat one behind you?’

  ‘He’s my travelling companion. We have been sent on this quest together, but I can leave him outside if you’d prefer.’

  Terrin was partial to this idea but his hopes soon fell when the woman said, ‘No, bring him in. I better keep an eye on you both.’

  As they entered the home the dog went back to sit by the old woman’s chair. It took Doran a few moments to become accustomed to the darkness inside. Light flickered from the fire in the hearth and cast the room in a faint orange glow. Only a single candle had been lit and it stood on the tree stump next to the fire.

  The mystic hobbled over to the hearth and checked the pot which hung over the flames before she pulled the small table closer to her chair. The hound rose from his place to snarl at the two intruders.

  ‘Sit, Victor,’ the old woman said, and settling back down on the mat the dog huffed and closed his eyes. The old woman sat in her chair. ‘So what is it you wish to know?’ she asked and pointed to the vacant chair opposite her own. Doran took a seat and placed the coins on the table for the woman. ‘You haven’t even asked your question yet. How do you know that is enough?’

  Doran smiled, and removing his purse, placed another two coins on the table.

  ‘I repeat, you have not yet asked your question,’ the old woman said.

  ‘I seek the whereabouts of a tree. A tree which is one of a kind. The Tree of Life.’

  The woman stared at Doran. She knew he wasn’t an honest man but there was something else she couldn’t quite figure out. The tree was of no use to a mortal man, so why would he need to find the tree?

  ‘We shall see,’ she said and then she rose from her chair and collected two cups from the cupboard behind her. Returning, she placed them on the table and hobbled off again to get her canister of leaves. Sitting in her chair she eyed him as she removed the lid and with the strange spoon inside she scooped out a spoonful and placed them in the cup in front of Doran.

  ‘Thank you, but I’ll not partake.’

  ‘If you wish to know the answer to your question, you must drink the tea.’

  Doran nodded his understanding, and she scooped out another spoonful to place in her own cup. She picked up an old jug off the stump by her seat and dipped it into the pot which hung over the fire. She then poured steaming water into Doran’s cup before she filled her own and placed the jug back on the tree stump.

  ‘Let it cool a while before you drink it,’ the mystic said as she sat back down in her chair. ‘It tastes better that way. Now tell me more about this tree of yours.’

  Doran told the woman all he knew of the tree but refrained from mentioning Athena.

  ‘Why do you wish to find this tree?’ the seer asked as she watched the expression on Doran’s face.

  ‘A woman I know—’ He coughed as he sipped the bitter liquid. ‘Has heard of the story and wishes to know if the tree really exists or if it’s a mere fable passed down from mother to daughter. You see,’ he said as he embellished his tale, ‘she believes she is a descendant of the woman in the story.’

  The old woman picked up her cup and sipped her tea while she waited for Doran to hand her his empty cup.

  She looked at the design the tea leaves had made and looking up at him she said, ‘Doran, I see that you have not told the whole truth.’ Terrin gasped when she spoke Doran’s name. The seer glared at him and he snapped his mouth shut and looked to the fire. ‘This journey you have reluctantly embarked upon will take you across the shifting sands. But the road you have travelled isn’t the road of old. Once you’ve crossed the desert you will need to head east until you reach the pillars of stone. You will know them by sight. The old road marks its way through there. Follow it further north and you will find the tree you seek.’

  Doran thanked the woman and rose from his chair. As he and Terrin headed for the door the woman looked into her cup and called out to them.

  ‘But the woman is not what she seems.’ They both stopped and turned back to face the seer. ‘She will lay you to waste and leave you upon the earth that she seeks.’

  Terrin turned and fled out the door. He’d heard enough and didn’t want to know if she knew his fate as well. ‘I will take care,’ Doran said.

  ‘Care or not, it matters none. I only tell what I see,’ the woman said, and she placed her cup upon the table.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Doran untied the wagon and after he and Terrin climbed aboard they turned the team around and headed back towards the village and out along the road which would take them across the desert. When the seer’s house was far behind them, Terrin felt it was safe enough to speak. ‘I was scared. You know, what that old woman said sent shivers up my spine. She knew your name and everythin’. Maybe we should just give up and forget about the tree.’

  Doran laughed. ‘Give up! And where would we go, Terrin? Do you think the mistress will just forget about us? Don’t you remember what happened when we lingered too long in the tavern?’

  Terrin shivered. He remembered all too well the pain and sickness he’d felt. Freezing cold and bored by the rocking of the wagon, they’d been relieved when they happened upon an inn. A dry warm bed and a hearty meal seemed too good to resist so they decided to stop for a night. After just a few drinks, to warm his insides, the inn had reminded Doran of his carefree ways, and giving into his lustrous passions, he paid one of the serving girls a few coins to share his bed for the night. Rising late the next day he’d woken to the howl of the wind and patter of rain as a storm blew in. Feeling off colour, he’d told Terrin that they would stay for another night. The next morning Doran was no better and as the evening wore on both Terrin and himself were quite unwell. They both had developed discomfort in their stomachs and putting it down to what they had eaten, they decided to stay for yet another night. That night as they lay in their beds they had both dreamt of Athena. The dream had seemed real. She had scolded them both and reminded them of her hold upon them, and to make sure they remembered her power she had thrust her hand into their chests and ripped out their hearts. She then held their beating bloody hearts up and laughed as she crushed the thumping muscle in her hands.

  While it had been merely a dream, they both woke from their sleep with stabbing pain in their chests. Wide awake, the pain still remained and both men could do nothing to stop it. It was then that Doran remembered Athena’s warning. ‘Doran you will not stray from your task. There will be no meandering in taverns and villages along the way.’ They had taken what they could and hitched their wagon. Scrambling aboard, they’d set off and after travelling only a short while the pain had begun to subside, and with each mile that passed the infliction eased until Doran wasn’t sure it really had anything to do with Athena. But not willing to test the theory again, they only ever
stopped for one night.

  Terrin knew Doran was right, and his head drooped as the horses hooves dug into the soft sand of the desert.

  <><><>

  Meanwhile back at Dome, Athena worked on her plan, gathering the components she needed to call the Lord from the Underlands.

  ‘Catrain, bring me the bowl.’

  The young girl struggled to lift the enormous silver bowl and so she dragged it across the floor of the treasure room.

  ‘What is the plan, Mistress?’

  ‘Our Lord will know what we need to do. He will guide us on our next task, and we will be prepared when Doran returns with the whereabouts of the tree.’

  ‘But what if they never return?’

  Athena lashed out and slapped the girl, causing her to stagger to the side. Catrain reach up and touched her stinging cheek.

  ‘Fetch the goat!’

  Athena flicked her hand and the candles burst to flame. She moved carefully to the edge of the inscriptions she had drawn in sand and waited for the girl to return with the beast.

  Afraid to look at Athena, Catrain led the goat towards her and held out the rope. Athena moved forward and lifted the squirming animal into her arms. ‘Untie the rope, Catrain, or it will drag through the spell.’ Catrain did as she was told and then moved away, depositing the goat’s leash near the door.

  Standing before the gigantic golden idol, Athena placed the goat in the bowl and used her magic to hold it while she performed the ritual which would summon Zute from his realm. Catrain watched eagerly as Athena used the dagger and poured various concoctions into the bowl. She sliced her hand with the dagger and plunged her hands into the mixture. Catrain stared, eyes fixed on the bubbling liquid as it rose from the bowl and the form of a man materialized. Looming, the liquid spoke to his summoner.