She saw massed ranks of Shiffante below them against a winter backdrop. The Shiffante waited in silence. They were confident, prepared and strong. Something was wrong, but the die was cast. Firewing banked and swooped to the Shiffante lines. Carutha felt a terrible tearing in her chest. Firewing fell from the sky as did her companions behind her.
Black light issued from the mouths of the Shiffante. Its darkness drew in all the goodness around, sucking the life force from every living thing. Carutha felt her heart shrivel and die. She felt the spirit ripped from her body and taken by the Shiffante below. She felt one with them, connected to the dark heart. She looked into her father’s eyes and screamed.
Carutha woke with a start. She was bathed in sweat and disorientated for a moment. A figure stood by the door, Firewing. Her eyes focused.
“Are you all right Carutha?” You were calling out so I came.
Carutha thought and remembered her dream. “Just a nightmare, that’s all. It was so real. I’m…I’m all right now. How long have I been asleep?”
“A few hours, the rest will have done you good. It’s time now to meet Silverwing once more, if you are ready.”
Carutha nodded. “Of course. Let’s go.”
They went outside and followed the edge of the lake to the place they had been earlier and waited. Out on the water Carutha could see the silhouette of the girl. She was still crouched on her knees, eyes reading the crystal lights. Their glow was dimming however and over the following minutes stopped altogether. The girl’s body slumped forwards in exhaustion.
They waited on the shoreline. Silverwing stood and came towards them. As she drew near Carutha could see she looked drawn, haggard.
Carutha could not help herself, concern edged her voice. “Are you all right Silverwing? What’s going on here?”
“I’m fine, thank you for your concern. The darkness, it gets everywhere, it is difficult to shine light when there is so much darkness in the world. However, light would not exist without the darkness. We are all children of the stars, even those that serve the darkness. They are lost that’s all; they need to be brought back to the light.”
“Carutha, you have the Aerithryl Shard,” Silverwing declared. It was a statement of fact not a question.
Carutha nodded and started to recount all that had happened. Silverwing waved her hand. “No need to explain, I know of your journey. It was I who set things in motion with Q’uaina and her exile. I needed someone who would find their way to you to release you from the Otherside. Someone to be your host whilst your spirit was in transition. Q’uaina was your perfect foil. Her role is not yet over. Her journey unfolds still.”
“Q’uaina is still alive?” Carutha blurted out. “What news? What of Agathe and Ossian? Are they alive?”
“Yes, I have seen their light in the crystal waters. I know not their exact circumstances but I do know they are alive. That should give you strength to tackle the next stage of this journey,” Silverwing’s words hung in the air.
“What do you mean? I’ve brought the Shard to you, here, here it is.” Carutha produced the Shard from her waist pouch. It looked deceptive. Its crystal was dull and lacklustre in the light of the few torches that flickered nearby.
“The Shard is not for me,” Silverwing replied. “The Shard harnesses the bearer’s energy. You are the last of your race and you are in a way still connected to the Otherside and your father and in turn, your people. It is your ancestral memory that the Shard will tap into and draw its power from. It is a conduit for the deep power you can access. It is retribution. You and your people are those that have been wronged. You will right that wrong.”
“But how? I’m only one and they are many,” Carutha protested.
“Come let me show you.” Silverwing held out her small child’s hand. “Do not fear, you can walk on the lake with me.”
Carutha held out her hand and stepped out onto the crystal lake. It was solid and she was able to walk on its surface. It felt surreal to be in this place, with this child speaking of retribution. She focused and allowed herself to be led to the centre of the lake.
“Come, kneel here with me.” Silverwing indicated the spot.
Carutha knelt down beside the girl and looked into the water below. She saw nothing.
“Now open your heart, think of your father, your people, your childhood. Release your mind, your every thought into the lake. It will read your energy. Still waters they run deepest here at the centre of the pool.”
Carutha resisted at first but then allowed herself to relax. She stared at the water below her knees. She saw her own reflection in the surface, then she saw other shapes around her. Her father’s face came to her followed by her mother and then her brother. All dead, she knew but they seemed real to her now. Then others she had known in her lifetime; adults, teachers, cousins, friends, children she had grown up with. They all looked back at her from underneath the lake’s waters.
Then their faces blurred and merged into flashes of light magnified by the crystal surface. The light resonated with her and she pulled out the Shard gripping it tightly in one hand. She heard a popping noise in her ears and an image filled her vision.
She witnessed herself climbing a snowy peak battling against a blizzard. She knew she had to reach the top of the mountain in order to achieve her goal. Her struggle was epic, drawing on the reserves of her strength and that of her ancestors who supported her.
Finally, she saw herself reaching the summit. The storm had abated and she could see the land spread out below her. The Erthe was blasted, blackened and wasted. She sensed the presence of great evil far below. An evil that watched. An evil that held the advantage. An evil that would harm her friends.
But she knew what she must do. This was the sacred, holy mountain. The lost mountain, spoken of in whispers by old men, long forgotten. Barely remembered, even on inscriptions and maps of the ancients. It was to be found somewhere in The White Spine range.
“Go on Carutha, reunite the Shard with the summit stone,” Silverwing’s voice reached her through the haze. Silverwing’s hand squeezed hers.
Carutha opened her fist only to see the skin covered in blood and the Shard shattered and broken. She let out a startled cry.
“What is it Carutha, what do you see?” Silverwing’s voice broke the vision.
Ice gripped her heart. Something felt terribly wrong.
“I don’t know, I felt pain. Something from behind, from my past. The only way I can describe it…betrayal.”
The word hung between them like a tangible thing, a stain. She could almost feel it slowly turning over and over in her stomach. Betrayal. Someone had or would betray her. Suspicion welled up inside her. Who could she trust?
“Wait, Carutha. The Shard magnifies emotion and you will be connected to intense ancestral memory when you use it. It is likely you are just picking up old emotional memory from your ancestors. Your people, the Shinalese split into two factions, that was how the Shiffante came into being. Perhaps that echo of betrayal resonated with you somehow, but it may be just a resonance from the past, from your roots.” Silverwing’s voice was calm, reassuring.
“I don’t know Silverwing, it felt so real. I saw blood on my hands, it coloured the snow beneath my feet. I don’t know if it was my blood or someone else’s.”
A thought surfaced in Carutha’s mind. What if she was not the betrayed but the betrayer? What if she was turned by design or circumstance? Silverwing read her eyes and read the fear there.
“Rest easy Carutha, you have been through much. Your mind is still adjusting to events. It is plain from your vision that we need to find the White Spine range. In particular the lost mountain, or as it was once known; The Forge.
“Leave this to me, I will search the waters for this knowledge. We are all of water; all knowledge has passed through water over the ages. Traces of all history, of all memory, living and dead resonates in the water. The location will come, it will surface, to those that ask and know
where to look. Go now back to your lodgings and rest, I will see you again come the morning.”
Carutha felt an overwhelming sense of fatigue and she did not protest. She wanted to curl up in a ball and forget everything. She wanted to be back home in the arms of her family. To go back to how it once was. This had to be a dream, except she knew it was real. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly then rose and returned to the lake shore.
The moon was almost full. Her ancestors’ hearths twinkled in the firmament. Her resolve returned, she would see this through.
~
Agathe shivered through the night. Her body was stiff and painful. Her thoughts were with her father and her companions. She sent her light out to them hoping against hope they were safe.
She slept fitfully. Moments before the darkest hour she was aware of a shadow over her, then a momentary sharp discomfort at her throat and then she tumbled into a deeper sleep. Her body became strangely warm and a floating feeling swept her away into a troubled dreamscape.
Chapter 25
Transformations
The Beekeeper outlined his plan to Q’uaina. They were close, the tracks were fresh. Only hours old. Instead of following the trail directly on foot, he would change into his Owl form and fly the rest of the way. His vision in dim light was superb. He would be able to track from the safety of the branches. Once he was certain of the enemy’s location. He would return to Q’uaina and they would carry out their plan.
Q’uaina was to go to the high ground to the west. She would be able to spot any other movement in and out of the valley. It would also make it difficult for anyone to sneak up behind her. She saw the rocky outcrop in the distance and felt it less likely that the dark creatures would be able to emerge from solid rock.
“Good luck Beekeeper, I’ll see you soon,” Q’uaina said. She did not want to contemplate failure; there was no fallback plan.
The Beekeeper nodded and gave a quick smile. He then turned and with a flourish of his hands and a whispering of words, he vanished. Q’uaina heard the beat of wings nearby and saw a blur of white plumage from the corner of her eye. She turned and saw nothing.
She pressed on, her mind turned to her own quickening. Her new talents had not revealed themselves yet. Her clan tattoos were long gone. In their place, she had a vivid red butterfly on her left hand and an equally realistic blue butterfly on her right hand. She wondered but could not come up with any ideas as to what they could mean. She remembered Ossian calling her butterfly girl and she smiled.
Her progress up the hill was slow as she was careful not to leave an obvious trail. She then encountered the crags, which for a time took her full attention to scale safely. Finally, she reached the top and caught her breath. She looked out over the valley and everything seemed peaceful. The sun was sinking in the west. Barely an hour of daylight remained.
Q’uaina hunkered down amongst the rocks and managed to find a place out of the wind. She hoped she had not long to wait.
The Beekeeper flew from tree to tree following the tracks below. If anything, the trail was becoming more obvious by the minute. He smelt a trap and was not surprised when after a few minutes he spotted a group of shadowy figures crouched a short distance from the trail. They were watching the forest at ground level. They did not look up. He had the advantage and remained a while watching them. He estimated there were about eight in number. He then moved on, his owl’s sight sharp even in the failing light.
He saw a fox, then a badger stirring, for their night’s forays. Then he saw a waterfall and an opening to a nearby cave. Tied up close to the waterfall’s pool were two horses. He had found the enemy’s liar. He stopped and settled down to watch.
For a long time nothing happened. The roar of the waterfall was hypnotising. He made a point of casting his eyes in a systematic search of the area. On the fourth or fifth sweep, he noticed something was different but could not place it. He continued his surveillance. Then he saw it.
In the last rays of the sun, the shadows had lengthened. In one area of the clearing below where there should have been shadow, there was none. A simple illusion spell had been cast to conceal something. It must have been put there earlier in the day when the sun was overhead. There had been no shadows at that time.
The owl focused its attention on the area then moved its gaze slightly to one side. There it was; a figure crouched to one side of the oak tree. Another trap.
He decided it was time to test the inner perimeter. He flew off and tracked his prey. After a few minutes, the owl had its mark. A young hare had left the safety of its burrow and was foraging for food. The owl alighted in branches downwind and waited for the right moment then pounced.
The hare reacted instinctively. Like a bolt, it shot in the opposite direction to the danger. Exactly where the owl wanted it to go. The hare charged into the clearing at the waterfall. From the oak tree appeared a cloaked figure and in a flash had the hare in its hands. It looked up at the trees for a moment and the owl could see the vampire’s incisors exposed. Then it looked back down to the hare and plunged its teeth into the young, warm flesh.
From one of the caves off to the left a second figure emerged. Silver hair and a slightly stooped posture. The figure made no effort to conceal itself and walked across the clearing to the vampire. They exchanged a few words and parted again taking up their former positions.
The owl stayed a while longer then flew up and away, back towards the high ground where Q’uaina waited. The plan might just work, if luck was with them this night.
~
Ossian took off his clothes and buried them; he could have no human scent tainting his new identity. He lay shivering in the cool evening breeze, the moon already on the ascendancy. He ran in a circle to keep his temperature up and waited. He did not know yet how to shape shift at will. He needed a trigger to bring about the transformation. He started to worry that he would not be able to change. Obtrusive thoughts of logic and reason crowded his mind taking him further away from instinct and intuition.
If he could only calm the voice inside, quell the anxiety, he might stand a chance. He remembered the elders of his clan using the sweathouse and brown-topped fungi to achieve a trance state, to walk between the worlds. He did not have fungi or a sweathouse but he could try repeating the chant they had used to calm his mind.
He sat under the moon, his skin liquid silver in its light. He closed his eyes and repeated the words of the clan elders:
“Great bear protect and carry our family through this journey,
Give us strength and cunning to win the hunt,
Give us honour in battle so our ancestors may be proud,
Guide us through winter’s cold embrace into spring’s promise…”
Ossian had repeated the chant no more than twice when it happened. From far away, carried on the wind came the unmistakable howl of a wolf. It was a long, lone note, which briefly held the night in its thrall. Ossian froze, his senses locked on to the sound and he felt the transformation begin. He had found the trigger.
His bones writhed and his joints popped, reforming his shape. His skin disappeared and was replaced by thick, grey-white fur. His hands and feet changed before his eyes and his skull and jaw painfully grew out of all recognition. Gone was the immature wolf of his previous incarnations. Here he was, a fully-grown male of the species. Gone were the words; gone were the thoughts. Replaced by instinct and a deep knowing of what was to be done.
Ossian looked up at the moon, and felt indescribable joy, a need he could not refuse. He arched his back and let out a plaintive howl that seemed to echo in the night. The wind would carry his message.
~
Agathe woke with a start. She was no longer fatigued. She felt strong. Her mind alert. All her senses were heightened. Her eyesight was particularly keen in the dim light. She reached up to her stiff neck and felt a dry crusted area on her throat. For a moment, she was confused, then realisation hit her.
LeSouris had come to her i
n the night and had bitten her, feeding on her blood.
She froze and her mind shut down in shock. She stared at the dried blood on her fingers and tears welled up in her eyes. She could see her life disappearing before her eyes. All her hopes and dreams evaporated in an instant. Her heart reached out for Ossian and she knew she must run from him forever. For this, there was no cure. She was of the undead now.
Her body stiffened. She would face this alone. She would punish LeSouris. If he thought she was now his plaything, his puppet, he was mistaken. Yes, she would play the part, yes she would bide her time and yes, she would destroy him and send his vampire spirit to the Vale of Thorns for all time.
Outside she heard a commotion above the sound of the waterfall. Then words being exchanged; LeSouris and another she could not identify. Their voices stopped. She would gather her strength and wait.
~
“Fire? That’s your plan? Fire?” Q’uaina said incredulously to the Beekeeper. “The whole forest will be ablaze. We’ll be killed ourselves.” She scoffed and looked wide-eyed at the Beekeeper.
“Listen, no not fire, but smoke. Thick, acrid smoke to give the illusion of fire. It will rouse the animals of the forest; they will run from the smoke towards our enemies. I saw a boar trail when I was tracking earlier. If we can drive the boar and the smoke towards our enemies that will cause enough of a diversion for you to reach Agathe.”
The Beekeeper explained what he had seen on his reconnaissance of the enemy encampment. Q’uaina took it all in and was preparing herself for her part in the rescue. It was then that the Beekeeper had mentioned the details of the rescue plan.
“How do you propose to make smoke without fire?” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
Severance Page 15