She lowered her hands and pressed the charm against her belly as if to protect her child by its touch. “I never meant for that to happen! As I went to leave, there was ice on the step and I slipped and fell. I had a bag, I dropped it and the spider—”
The Void loves nothing.
“—it must have gotten out! Two days later, I looked into the box where I kept the spider and it was gone. I searched everywhere. I hoped it had died in the cold. But when I found out Icaros had died and how, I knew it must have gotten into the house where it was warm and—” She choked on a sob, and wept.
Lorth’s spirit dropped to the floor like a dead bird. He leaned heavily against the mantel, feeling nauseous. He had no place left to go, now. He had reached the end of a long journey and found nothing.
After a time, he looked up. Setriana huddled in her seat, sniffling, clutching her charm. “You and I are not so different, Setriana,” he said quietly. “I once believed the Hunter’s Rede sheltered me from politics and war. I don’t care for such things; my home is in the wilds. The heart cares naught for the structures of country, city, alliances or propriety. Contrary to our lords’ beliefs, I didn’t leave your father’s employment because I’m lawless and irresponsible.”
“You are lawless,” she said. Her voice rattled like leaves.
“I concede that. But it’s not why I left Tarth. I wanted to come home.”
“Did you tell that to the King?”
He touched her gaze briefly. “He would no more have agreed to that than he would your being in love with an Anglorean. I knew too much.”
She nodded. “And I concede that.”
Lorth thought of Leaf, his mother and spiders. “There’s a saying in Tarth: ‘Death rules the jungle’.” He said it in fluent Tarthian. “Without death, there would be no life, no change.”
She gestured to the scar on his neck. “You’ve been marked by the jungle. You are a wizard, as Icaros was.”
I am not a wizard. “Honestly, I don’t know what I am anymore.”
“Maybe you are both a hunter and a wizard,” she offered.
“The Eye has too many laws. The Hunter’s Rede too few.”
“Isn’t that why you came to Tarth?”
Lorth stared at her as if she had just uttered an interdimensional portal command. The watery, undifferentiated vision of women! It sounded like something Leda would say. Suddenly, he realized that his wolfish disregard for the hardline tenets of wizards and hunters had caused him to excel at both. Icaros had seen it. He had loved and nurtured the very thing.
What is the true meaning of darkness? The Dark Warrior beckoned him once more to surrender. This time, he didn’t hesitate.
He stepped before the Princess of Tarth and reached out. A tear escaped his eye as he drew her up. He gently opened her hand and took Icaros’s charm, placed the small stone and sage cutting into the pouch, and closed her fingers back over it. Then he put his arms around her protectively, breathing the fragrance of wisteria in her hair as light flooded forth like a mighty river from the Mother’s depths.
“No harm will come to you or your child,” he said. “On the bones of the Destroyer, I swear it.”
Chapter 24
Shade of Moon: The tide brings light.
The woodlands of Ostarin thickened with swelling buds, green grasses and a warmer sun that drew flowers from their damp, fragrant beds. Robins, geese and bats had returned from the south, frogs sang in the pools and snakes slithered out to warm themselves on stones in the morning. Fiddleheads, trout lilies and wood sorrel emerged from beneath the leaves in forest shadows.
On the eve of a new moon, Lorth of Ostarin strode out of the barn with an ax over his shoulder. He moved around the geese waddling across his path and patted Freya as she munched on clover hay from the new sapling grate he had built. A goat bleated in the yard. Scrat lounged on the back step, cleaning herself. Lorth took a deep breath of the cool, dry air stirring the curtains in the open windows of the stone house. The gardens grew with things Icaros had planted: bleeding hearts, daffodils, foxgloves, larkspur, cohosh, sage willow and mint. Icaros had known words that kept the mint from taking over the garden. Unable to remember them, Lorth decided he would ask Leda about it, next time he saw her.
Leaving Eusiron in the hands of wizards and warriors, he had returned here to spend the days and nights alone, listening to the wind, the animals and the forces of the season. He had restored the barn to its function, built a new fence, burned the Faerins’ shelters and planted saplings where trees had been felled. Eaglin had returned Icaros’s animals. Lorth appreciated having Oc, a draft horse, to clean up the forest around his new home.
Soon after leaving the palace, Lorth went to Ithsion to honor their agreement. The Maelgwn had chosen a beautiful mare, dark as soot with cream-colored flashes and fetlocks. They met each week, rode their horses and spoke Maelgwn. Though still far from fluent, Lorth found the language easier to learn than Tarthian.
Leda visited him near the new and full moons. They made love, tinkered in the gardens and whispered in the night of mysteries about beasts, plants and trees. Occasionally, his companions from the High Guard would come with mison wine and whisky, and leave him with a hangover. Eaglin came too, alone usually, except for Mira. The Raven had grown quiet and withdrawn, homesick for Eyrie. He talked of the citadel often.
Lorth had also traveled to Eusiron several times since his return, to train. Whether in remorse or an attempt at friendship, Barenus had reclaimed the bow and quiver Icaros had given Lorth and returned it to him. As Setriana neared the birth of her child, the Raptor had taken to following her around like a loyal hound, caring for her every need.
Setriana had agreed to stand to Aniron and Oban and answer their questions; though much to their irritation, Lorth had stood with her. So had Leda. She had felt neither threatened nor disdainful towards the High Commanders of Eyrie, but simply told them that the Old One’s hand had guided Setriana, and while the princess’s intention to kill Roarin had been sound, the Keepers of the Eye had no business questioning her for the deed when they had left Roarin to the Destroyer for justice. With less patience—startlingly cold vehemence, in fact—she had hit them with a bear paw for daring to claim jurisdiction over Icaros. And to Lorth’s amazement, the wizards stood down to the Mistress of Eusiron, though by what hand of gods or conscience, he couldn’t guess.
Lorth walked to his woodpile on the edge of the forest, near the old maple tree where he had buried Icaros. The columbines held swollen blooms in the shapes of dragon heads to the dappled light. Leda had planted things on the wizard’s grave, strange things of which Lorth didn’t know the names. He hadn’t asked. She sat there for hours one day, her hands dirty and her lips moving with the Dark Tongue. It was private to her, and there it would remain.
For the first time since childhood, Lorth felt content. But in the middle of the night or in the evening feeding goats, at the hoot of an owl or a yowl of the cat, he felt emptiness. He loved this place with all his heart. He loved these mountains, and Leda, and all he had come to know here. But restlessness worked him like incessant wind over a high mountain crag. He had lost his purpose, even amid the peace of his beloved master’s realm.
You are both a hunter and a wizard, Setriana had said. It repeated in his mind often, but he didn’t know what to do with it. The life he had led before didn’t work for him now. Too much had changed.
He picked up a log and set it onto the block, then swung his ax around and split it with an echoing crack. The afternoon shadows lengthened. He had gone through half of his pile and started a new one to carry to the bin by the door when he heard a dog barking.
He left his ax in the block as a wolfhound bounded into the clearing. He grinned and wrestled with Mira in the grass until riders came around the side of the house. Lorth looked up as they dismounted: Eaglin, Regin, Leda, Freil, and to his surprise, Barenus.
Lorth walked to them, scratching woodchips from his hair. “To what do I
owe this conspiracy?” Freil slid from his pony and half-ran, half limped into his arms. Lorth hugged him tightly as the others dismounted. He sensed something odd in Freil’s mood. He looked up as Eaglin approached. “All is well?”
The Raven nodded. “All is well. Setriana bore a son.”
“He is beautiful,” Leda said with a grin. “She named him Icaros.”
“Ah,” Lorth said, a smile spreading over his face. He turned to Barenus. “And you are not with the new mother?”
The wizard lowered his head, and then looked up with smiling eyes. “She’s sick of the sight of me. She gave me her leave.”
“Threw you out, more like,” Regin noted.
Later, having shared a warm meal of rabbit stew, the company sat around the hearth in the main room of the house. Lorth sat on the floor next to Leda, who sat in Icaros’s favorite chair. The wizards sat in chairs they had pulled near, Regin lay on the far side of the hearth, and Freil sat against him.
Eaglin leaned forward in his chair and rested his arms on his thighs. “I received news from the Seat of Setar a few days ago,” he said to Lorth. “I don’t know what you wrote in that letter you sent home with Setarin, but it must have been good.”
“You put the Aenmos’s seal on it,” Barenus said, casting Eaglin a nervous glance. “You didn’t read it first?”
Leda breathed a laugh. “That was brave.”
“Let me guess,” Regin said as he lowered his drink. “We going to war?”
“Not yet,” Eaglin said. “King Setar relinquishes all interest in and claim on his daughter, and hopes for peace with Sourcesee for the length of his reign.”
Regin whistled. “Oh ho! Looks like we have a diplomat in the ranks.”
“Don’t count on it,” Leda muttered. Lorth threw a look over his shoulder that caused her to giggle.
“Well then,” Barenus said. “Do tell. What did you say to him?”
Lorth cleared his throat. “I told him Setriana and her child are under my personal protection, and if he persists in his quest to bring her to justice for his own reasons, I’ll hunt him down with all the powers of the Eye at my command.” He lifted his cup and took a long drink.
At first, his companions just stared. Then they burst into uproarious laughter.
“You cheeky bastard!” Regin bellowed over the tumult.
When they had all calmed down, Eaglin shook his head and said, “Crass as your methods are, it was a good move. The last thing Setar wants is trouble with the Eye.”
Leda said, “He assumed Eyrie stood by his cause when he handed her over to us.”
“Now he knows they don’t.” The Raven reached for a bottle on the floor by his chair and poured himself a cup of wine.
Silence fell as the night breeze whispered in the chimney. Lorth propped his knees up and slung his arms over them. He considered his friends, and then remembered the odd thing he had earlier detected in Freil. “I’m glad you’re all here,” he said. “But what are you about?”
For some moments, they didn’t respond, though they exchanged glances. Freil acted as if he wanted to say something, but dared not speak out of hand. At last, Leda spoke.
“Are you happy, Lorth?”
He gazed around at them. “I’ve not been so happy since I lived here with Icaros.”
“You’re not the same man now, as then,” Eaglin pointed out.
It never failed to amaze Lorth, how quickly these people brought him to conflict. He looked sidelong into the fire, flexing his jaw. The emptiness pulled at him like a cold draft sucking smoke up the chimney.
Freil blurted, “The Aenmos came to the palace.”
Lorth turned with a lifted brow. “What for?”
“He came with a proposition,” Eaglin said, casting the boy a shadowy look. “How would you feel about joining the Keepers of the Eye?”
Lorth snorted a laugh. “After the Aenlisarfon marked me with a hunter and then questioned my connection to Maern? Sounds like a control maneuver. No, thanks.”
“The Aenlisarfon answers to my father,” Eaglin said. “He removed Aniron and two others from the council over that move and replaced them within the day. The new council voted unanimously to train you as a siomothct. You must be initiated into Raven, first. It will take time, and training. But in your case, not so much.”
“And you won’t get paid,” Regin added casually.
Lorth hid a smile, appreciating the guardsman’s cynicism. Behind him, Leda remained quiet, but moved her foot against his ribcage comfortingly. Lorth said, “Can I think about it?”
“Of course,” Eaglin said. He shared a glance with his mother.
The companions talked deep into the night, long after Freil had fallen asleep in Regin’s arms. They talked of Eyrie and the Orders of the Eye, until one by one they wandered off into the house to find sleep.
Leda slid from her chair and nestled against Lorth with a sigh. She smelled of violets. He held her close, kissed her hair. “I need to ask you something,” he said. She nodded against his chest with a sound of invitation. “You never told me why Icaros left the Order of Raven. I didn’t have a reason to question that before now. It seems important.”
She lifted her head and sat up. He brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek. “Icaros was a member of the Aenlisarfon,” she said, touching him with her grayish gaze. “He had a falling out with them over a war in another part of the world, far from here. The council didn’t want to get involved, and decided it had to unravel on its own. Icaros disagreed and intervened.”
“He stopped the war? Influenced it?”
She shook her head. “He tried. The others prevented him. Shortly thereafter, Ealiron removed him from the council. He still had his cloak, and his powers, but by then, he didn’t want them. He renounced the Eye and returned to Ostarin.”
Lorth gazed into the fire. “Did he ever regret it?”
“I don’t know. But he loved the arts of wizardry. He was a master; it came to his hand without effort. It was clear to me when you came here that he had given you the same love and taught you well, even beyond the injunctions of his Order. You seem to’ve picked up some of his defiance.” She made a soft sound of amusement.
“Leda, I still don’t understand why he had to die like that.”
She took his face into her hands. “At the level of power Icaros possessed, he wouldn’t have been blinded by Setriana. He honored the Old One. His death was dark to me because he had surrendered to her. He allowed it to unfold—as he had refused to do as part of the Aenlisarfon. And because of it, you’ve found your way. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t died when and how he did.”
Lorth’s heart thumped like a drum as he perceived the scope of this for the first time. He drew Leda into his arms, feeling strangely empty. “Why is Ealiron offering me siomothct?”
“Wizards aren’t perfect. Who better to keep them in line than one so intimate with their shortcomings?” She shook with laughter. “Icaros raised you for the job.”
Lorth looked down at her. “I’ll miss you,” he said softly.
“And I you. Will you stay the summer? I have things to teach you, before you go.”
He liked the sound of that. “I’ll stay until the maple tree turns three colors. But leaving you will not be kind.”
She smiled. “It is your nature to fly. I’ll be here for you, as Maern is to all warriors.” She touched his face. “You would go mad, if you stayed here.”
He looked into her eyes, a cloudy sky edged by the tawny rays of a setting sun. “I’ll go mad away from here. Perhaps being just a hunter is not so bad.”
“As a wizard, you’ll learn to visit me in other ways.”
He lifted his brow. “Indeed?”
“Indeed.” She tightened her arms around him and buried her face against his heart.
“Being a wizard won’t be so bad either, then.”
“Was it ever?”
He held her close and smiled. “No. It wasn’t.” And the e
mptiness filled with light.
Glossary
Aenmos (EN mohs): In Aenspeak, “creator.” Cast in the male sense. Used as a formal title and address for Ealiron, or for any Formation entity. See also Ealiron, Formation entity.
Aenlisarfon (en LIS arvon): A council of nine wizards of the Order of Raven who watch over the patterns of human and immortal energies in the higher spheres of consciousness that permeate the world of Ealiron. See also Keepers of the Eye.
Aenspeak (EN speak): An ancient language used by wizards to invoke and focus power. Comes from the word aen, which roughly means, “the primary fire” or “the source of sound.” Aenspeak is informally referred to as the wizards’ tongue, and is a higher, more structured form of the Dark Tongue, which is differentiated from it. See also Dark Tongue.
Aesfoth (AS foth): The ruling seat of Faerin. Named after a constellation present in the winter sky over the northern hemisphere of Ealiron.
Apparition: A perceivable thoughtform consciously created from a wizard’s essence to perform a certain task. Apparitions are able to pass between dimensions of consciousness, including the physical.
Archer Falls: Colloquial name given to the high cliffs on either side of Os, which are manned by archers who guard the shores.
Asmoralin (as MOR ah lin): A large, rugged, arid realm southeast of Sourcesee.
Aspect: A self-aware portion of an entity’s essence, focused on the time-space matrix to express that part of the entity’s nature. Aspects are a part of the creator, yet also possess individuality and free will, including living things such as humans, animals, plants, trees, and immortal creatures such as sioros and loerfalos. Term also refers to the perceivable manifestations of the Old One, such as the Destroyer. See also Entity, Old One.
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