by Talia Haze
“Gabriella!”
I turned back to Stony’s annoyed face. “In the first fairy route. There were all kinds of…people floating around when Connie was screaming in the cave. I thought I had imagined it until we were in the old kingdom near Lavenora.” Stony’s eyes narrowed. “I saw them there too.”
Father inspected Stony’s face. “What is it, Zairae? What do you know?”
“I am not sure what I know,” Stony answered, turning away from me. Father looked just as confused as I was. “Never mind those words, Renard. We are not after the Xri. I am more interested now in Gabriella.”
What did he mean by that? Stony didn’t bother to explain and returned to his tree. I turned to Father who simply shrugged and rubbed the back of his head. “I’m not sure, Gab,” he said, quietly. “He will tell us in time.”
~
When we awoke the next morning, we packed up, ate a small breakfast and saddled the horses. Mother gently blindfolded the innkeeper’s horse, while Father muted his ears. I stood as close as I dared to the river’s edge, and stared across the raging waters. The mist from the torrent was so thick that it looked like small clouds had settled all around. Even in the daylight, I could barely see the other side. We never would have been able to cross it on our own. How would we even cross it now? And with horses…?
I started when Stony stood next to me. His eyes scanned the river while blazing white. Across the river, I could see something moving about in the mist. I turned to Stony, but his eyes glowed strongly. The dust at my feet slowly began to whirl. I stumbled back as the dirt and sand gathered on both sides of the river and stretched towards each other.
In a few more moments, a small bridge was formed over the waters. Father whistled to his horse. After an impatient stamp, Father’s horse, Wryly, led the others across the dirt bridge. Connie’s smile grew. Wryly seemed like the horse version of my father. Stony stayed where he was as the rest of us followed the horses. Father gently led the innkeeper’s horse across by the reins. Once we were all safely to the other side, Stony’s eyes returned to normal and the bridge crumpled into the deluge. He then flew across and we continued on our way.
The day was long. The route we took was not well-traveled, and the paths were often overgrown, obstructed by rocks or simply non-existent. Once, we all had to dismount to navigate up a narrow, steep slope along the side of a grassy knoll, covered with jagged rocks. Father checked his compass often and Angel the sky.
Finally, in the late afternoon, we reached the remains of a town. The plants had taken control, and nearly every stone lay covered in moss or vines. Father dismounted and led his horse through the silence. The abandoned town was not at all like the one near the elves. It wasn’t a forgotten beauty; it had no sort of charm. The town had been destroyed…completely obliterated. How could such a thing happen?
Only a few walls remained on the decayed wooden houses. Stones lay tumbled about, broken and charred. Old roads hid under the rubble, and spears and arrows dotted the scene. Quiet whispers sounded in the breeze, and though we were the only ones to move among the remains, shadows of the past seemed watch us.
I grabbed my arms. The place felt as terrible as the gingerbread man’s land. The breeze seemed to whisper, and each step over the weathered, brown bones seemed to shatter the air. Even Father looked surprised by the desolation. Only Stony kept focus, and he carefully examined the debris, looking for anything that could have belonged to a church. It felt such an impossible task. The smashed stones offered no distinguishing features of what they once were.
We were lucky. After only few more minutes of searching, Sean pointed to the distance. A singular wall stood tall in the remains, a fractured cross still attached and hanging askew. Father pointed off in the distance. “40,000 paces east from the church is the Hall.”
We rode slowly after Father for half an hour before we came upon a huge temple, nearly invisible in the trees. I wouldn’t have seen it at all had I not known what I was looking for. The thick green moss nearly covered the gray stones completely, and long vines wrapped around the pillars.
Father stood before the huge door, holding a torch to Sean, who blew fire to it. “The hall is inside. Here, we must leave the horses.”
“But how shall they survive?” Connie asked, looking back at them.
“They’ll be fine on their own,” Father answered. He removed the bridle from his horse’s mouth and patted his back. “Watch over them, Wryly.”
Wryly led the other horses to the woods. The innkeeper’s horse looked a little unsure, but as the other horses distanced, it quickly followed behind as we went inside.
Stony lit the few lamps as we looked around. An altar sat in the center of the room. Several candle stands and jars of various shapes and sizes were all around. Colorful but dusty tapestries hung on the walls between grime-covered stained-glass windows. Father navigated around the random objects strewn on the floor and down a dark tunnel slightly hidden behind a tapestry.
Several crude figures were drawn on each side of the tunnel’s walls. Vivid little drawings of people struck with massive arrows and tiny huts set ablaze. As we walked further, the pictures became so numerous that they covered the walls. Haunting cries and yells of war softly echoed in my ears. Thousands of little lines masked the ceiling, counting some unknown detail. I stopped at the largest painting on the wall, pulling out my crystal to see as Father’s torchlight distanced.
A huge man stood in the center of the confusion. Unlike the other pictures, the man was life-like, a huge, black mass that towered over me by six heads. He stood draped in red, and wore shiny black armor. The artist spent so much more time on his picture; the man looked real. A thick, black linen covered the man’s face.
I trembled uncontrollably. He hadn’t made me feel so terrible in such a long time. Even though his face was covered, I could tell he wasn’t human. His concealed eyes still seemed to peer right at me. I hated the pit he always put in my stomach.
In a long time? I leaned closer to the painting. I had seen him before. Where? Why couldn’t I remember? His massive form was certainly not forgettable…at least it shouldn’t have been. Perhaps an enemy in the fairy route?
A serpent’s hiss resonated in my ears.
“Gab! Gab!”
I jumped as Father shook me by my shoulders. “What are you doing? Have you been here the whole time?”
“Whole time?” I repeated. I had only paused for a few seconds. Didn’t I? I quickly glanced at the wall before turning back to my father. Stony’s eyes glowed slightly as he stared at me.
“I’ve been calling you for the past several minutes,” Father replied.
His words left me baffled. I didn’t stop for so long. I couldn’t have. Father held his torch up to better investigate what I was looking at. “What is all this, Zairae?”
Stony stared at the wall with an uninterpretable expression on his face. “It is the tale of a terrible warlord,” he answered. “Long ago, after being banished, he sought to be readmitted to his community by seeking to destroy the Black Crystal. The warlord was named the Mage of Caminae. He soon became greedy…he soon became powerful. He lived without rules, without guidance. He enjoyed the luxury of being able to do whatever he pleased without the permission of the council. Many took notice of his conquests; few took him seriously. Some called him Lord Amiss out of mockery. After he destroyed his first kingdom in the fourth land…”
“A kingdom?” Connie cried out, clutching her necklace. “He destroyed an entire kingdom?”
Stony nodded. “He was at the pinnacle of his reign when he suddenly disappeared.”
Unsettling. No one knew how to respond.
“Where did he go?” Kyle finally whispered.
“It is not certain,” Stony replied. “The situation was rather odd, in actuality. He simply disappeared overnight. Though there are several tales and rumors, no one knows for sure what became of the Mage. And he has been gone for at least a hundred years.”
/> “So, let’s say he’s dead, then” Kyle said, becoming bored and turning to continue down the passage.
“Perhaps he is.”
I ran my hands over the wall, though my fingers never even brushed the Mage’s form. Stony stopped me as the others continued ahead. “What did you see?” he demanded.
What did he mean by that? The same that he saw. I didn’t know what to say. “I’m not sure, Stony. But this man. The mage. Was he in the fairy route?”
Stony’s eyes brightened again. “Why do you ask me that?”
“I was just wondering,” I stuttered. What did he want? Why did he stare at me so? I trembled. I didn’t want to answer incorrectly. “I just…I’ve…”
“Have you seen him? Have you seen him before?”
Stony wasn’t angry, but his temperament was. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t answer; he just made me so nervous. Was I not supposed to have seen the mage? Did I? I couldn’t even remember if I had.
“I haven’t seen him before,” I finally said. “I just…I’ve felt like I have.” I scanned my memory and he scanned my face. “The only place that made sense for me to have seen him is the fairy route. That’s why I asked.”
“Could it have been when Princess Connie looked at the jewels?”
The black mass shifting the darkness. I had been so consumed by the calling faces speaking Jibberich, I had forgotten about the black mass they were all so afraid of. I looked back to the painting.
“Yes, that was where I saw him…although not like this. He was frozen in a rock when…”
But as soon as I answered, Stony turned and walked ahead. What did I say? Did I say something wrong? “Stony! What’s the matter?”
“Now, I am sure,” was all he answered. I slightly ran to keep up with his steady pace, but he didn’t even look at me as we caught up to Father and the others. The dark hall had nearly ended, and the early evening light poured into the tunnel. Father stared at the wall and nodded his head toward it as Stony and I came near.
The wall had several carvings in it, including a diamond, a sword, a shield, a pocket-watch, a book, a hand, a lantern and much more. Above, at the very top of the wall, were huge symbols, edged in gold.
“I never did learn Alanicate,” Father admitted. Connie took a small step forward.
“I have,” she said. Father smiled, surprised. “It says, ‘the hall of hosts.’”
“That is all?” Stony demanded. Connie nodded. “Hosts of what?”
“Does it matter?” Kyle complained. He rubbed his hand over the hand. “This is the Grip of Gold. It’s here! Let’s just get on then!”
I unconsciously pinched my lips. Should we pass so freely over something we had no idea about? In the fairy route, every little clue…even tiny bridges over the stream…was meaningful. What if it were important? Why was the Grip of Gold called a host? Father said I was a guide. I had no ideas or anything to offer, but I would remember the wall.
Just past the hall of hosts, the tunnel opened to a narrow ledge that overlooked a vast valley. A narrow path led from the opening and winded down to the valley, tightly pressed against the mesa’s walls. The path continued through the valley until it disappeared into a thick wood far off. The passage was certainly a shortcut; we could have gone the long way around the mesa to reach the valley, but I was glad we didn’t.
Father waved his hand, making a rope appear on the edge of the narrow path. “Hold fast and mind your steps. Come.”
It took nearly an hour to get all the way down the mesa. When we reached the bottom, we stopped to rest.
I leaned against a tree, trying to remember all the symbols I saw on the wall. Father said studying made me valuable. But how could I study something I knew nothing about? A sword, a shield, a diamond…
“Hey, Gab!”
I looked up. Father and Stony sat far off, and Father beckoned me. “Come here.” I walked to sit between the two. Stony still stared at me, nearly penetrating my thoughts with his gaze. “Zairae thinks you might have sight.”
I didn't answer right away. What did that mean? The elder elf said he had been gifted sight. Was I gifted the same thing? “So, I can see the future?”
Father shook his head. “Not the future, Gab, the past.” He gave a quick look to Stony, but since Stony’s eyes were still locked on mine, Father turned back to me. “It is a rare ability among fairies to…blur the lines between this world and the next. Generally, this separation is peaceful. But when the spirits become agitated or restless, they can be seen in our world…by those who have sight.”
“In my many years, I have only known of one other fairy with sight, and it is the head of the master’s council,” Stony said, finally looking away. “This is a rarity.”
“So…what does it mean?” I felt confused, very certainly startled. I didn’t want to see the spirit world. “What does sight do?”
“Just what it sounds like,” Father answered with a smile. “You can see. You can’t talk, you can’t touch, you can’t feel. It’s just images of the past. Sometimes, if the disturbance is very strong, the bygones can see you, but you cannot be touched.”
I didn’t know how to answer. It certainly made sense why I could see all those people in the cave, and why I could hear the whispers in the elvish ruins…and in the hall of hosts.
“You are certain that they can’t harm me?” I asked.
Father nodded. “They are images; memories of the past. Nothing more.”
“At the end of our journey, I will contact Daylon,” Stony continued. “You will need training. It is difficult for those with sight to differentiate what is real, and what is not.”
I nodded. I couldn’t differentiate. Those white wisps were very real. And what did they say? Leave the Xri alone? Why would they tell me that?
“What is the Xri?” I asked.
Father gave Stony quick look. “It’s a source of power,” he explained, after a consenting look from Stony. “It’s a fairy trick, like the fairy routes. It is rumored that some powerful fairy many lifetimes ago created the Xri to power other fairy things. Zairae himself has used the source in the past.”
“A book, a lantern, little else,” Stony agreed. “I have not seen or heard of its whereabouts in some time.”
Father opened the map as I disappeared into thoughts. A source of power? Why would the spirits concern themselves with a source of power? And what of the lists of hosts? Perhaps, they were all hosts for the Xri? There had to be a dozen pictures on that wall. What did that mean for the Grip of Gold?
Father’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “After the valley is the Cotton Cottage. I would rather push and stay there tonight instead of making camp out here. Come,” he stood, brushing himself off before bending to help me to my feet. “Let’s get through the valley.”
We continued through the woods and soon, the trees ended in a large field. Across the brown grass, a yellow cottage stood. Father pointed. “Perfect. And not too dark.”
We had plenty of time. Dim enough to just see the cottage, but not dim enough to light torches. The sun hung low in the sky and cast the shadows of trees against the grass.
A strong stench slowly filled the air. It smelled like old meat that had been sitting out in the sun for weeks. My hand went to my nose as I scanned the horizon for the source. No one else seemed bothered by it. I paused. How could they not notice? It smelled so much worse than the goose girl. But everyone continued walking in happy conversation.
Stony paused when I did, staring my face. “What do you see?”
Nothing. Nothing…
A thick fog fell across the field, slowly concealing the final rays of the sun. A frozen breeze blew my hair and through my frock, making my entire body shiver uncontrollably. The others stopped, looking back at me in confusion.
Father reached me and gripped my hand. “What do you see, Gab?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. Nothing? Fog? A dark mass moved about behind the haze. No, it approached. The mass spread s
everal miles; certainly, the width of the valley. “Father, it’s huge…”
“Gabriella, listen to me.” I turned to Stony, who bent to look at me, gravely. “You are standing between the worlds. Whatever you see cannot harm you, nor do you need to be afraid. This power is hard to control, but do not feel overwhelmed.”
I nodded and looked past him. I didn’t know what to feel. I didn’t know what it was. The mass finally broke through the mists.
People. Thousands of people. I shifted. These were not at all like those I had seen flying around in the fairy route. These all had wrinkled or cracked skin, red or yellowed eyes and white hair that blew in the breeze.
I stood motionless, trying not to look at them. They paid me just as little mind as I paid them, and slowly walked past. They all had torn or burned clothes, as if they had died in a fierce battle, though many of them were women and children. Only a handful of them were in armor.
“It’s people,” I whispered. One turned and looked at me as he passed. Stony gently shook me, turning my eyes back to him. “Hundreds…thousands of people. Stony…they don’t look alive…”
“They are not alive,” Stony reminded. “What about it bothers you?”
“They look like they have been in war,” I answered. Another looked at me. “But there are so few soldiers…”
Stony’s face flashed briefly in panic. I had seen it, and the thoughts began pouring into my mind. Why did I see them? And why was Stony so afraid? Should I be? Why were so few soldiers? What happened…?
I stepped back. I didn’t look where I was going and had leaned into the path of one of the bygones walking past me. He stared at me with empty eyes and opened his mouth widely, making the sound of something between a hiss and a growl.
I cried out in a panic, and other bygones turned to me, staring at me intensely. I trembled away, but they had surrounded us. Stony shook me. “Gabriella, they cannot hurt you…”
His voice was muffled by a deep bark. I spun around to find a large dog, fur charred, and bared teeth blackened…a ghastly sight. I cried out and trembled back, but the dog leapt over my head. My cries seemed to arouse the bygones and several of them stopped to stare at me. They seemed surprised that I could see them.