Severance

by Fergal F. Nally

  Q’uaina looked startled. “You can’t be serious, you intend to walk straight into their trap? Surely you have a plan?”

  The Beekeeper looked up. “There are no rules, no plans, just to find Agathe and to ensure her safety. That’s my concern. I do have one or two tricks up my sleeve though.” His eyes twinkled and a smile came to his face.

  Q’uaina looked concerned. “I don’t know if I agree with you, those two characters are nasty up close. They mean you nothing but harm. I wouldn’t underestimate their abilities.” She paused. “To change the subject, do you have anything to eat? I’m ravenous.”

  “Mmmm yes, I do have these.” The Beekeeper reached into his pack and produced bread, cheese and two ripe apples. “Nature provides when asked.”

  Q’uaina’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the food and she accepted the refreshment gratefully. After their meal, she returned to sleep, the Beekeeper insisting on taking watch for the remainder of the night.

  Dawn blushed the horizon with fragile light. Anticipation of a new day hung in the air. They were already packed and on their way. They used the two horses to make good time. Twenty minutes into their journey the Beekeeper straightened suddenly on his horse. “The drow has let it be known that Agathe is trapped in the whispering caves.”

  “How do you know this?” Q’uaina said.

  “He is using some form of directional magic to target me. I just know, it is difficult to describe. It is what it is.”

  They were only a short distance from the caves and decided to leave the horses tied securely away from the entrance.

  Q’uaina told the Beekeeper of her ability to shape shift and of her invisibility to foes once in this state. He instructed her to use her gift and to change form, which she did.

  “Very good, most impressive.” The Beekeeper’s face remained impassive. “Now I want you to follow me down into the caves but keep at a distance, don’t get too close. Things will unfold as they will, we have limited options here.”

  Q’uaina frowned. “Are you adamant you want to do it like this? Why don’t we just wait until they come out? Then we would at least have the element of surprise.”

  “Well, if things work out the way I hope, we may have a more permanent solution this way. They might have boxed themselves into a corner. There could be an advantage to us here after all.”

  Q’uaina kept her silence. They set off into the caves. She showed the Beekeeper the way, then dropped behind once they neared the underground cavern where their enemy lay in wait. The whispering sounds began again, as if the caves were acknowledging their presence. The entrance to the cavern lay ahead; a menacing cataract. Q’uaina knew some of the danger lurking there. She wondered what a dark elemental was, she did not like the sound of it.

  The Beekeeper began to hum and in the confined space of the passageway, the sound became magnified. He swayed slowly. The darkness seemed to thicken and congeal around him. The whispering from ahead grew becoming loud and threatening. The sibilant voices changed and began to wail. The Beekeeper started moving his arms in circular motions and then a new sound joined the fray.

  “Come to me, come to meet with me my dark one. I alone have the key to release you from your torment, from your pain,” the Beekeeper called to the cavern, to the dark elemental concealed there.

  A sound unlike anything Q’uaina had ever heard before came from the cavern. A grinding, rending crunch curdled her blood. Like rock grating on rock. She trembled. What was there? What was coming to meet them?

  The Beekeeper raised his sleeves and stretched them out. The material rolled back to reveal two swarms of bees on his arms.

  “Go my beauties, purify the darkness. Cleanse its dark heart. Bring light to its pain. I release you.” The Beekeeper shuddered and the bees exploded from his arms into the cavern ahead. He took a step forwards, then another. He disappeared into the opening.

  Q’uaina was tense with fear. The air was charged. The voices had reached a crescendo. Dust and small fragments of rock fell from the roof. A series of rending, grinding booms came from the cavern. She thought she heard the Beekeeper’s voice at one point but could not be sure. Then there was silence. A dark, oily tendril came out of the opening and hovered in the air exploring the space where the Beekeeper had stood. Then it vanished rapidly back into the cavern. The voices had gone.

  Q’uaina waited. It seemed an age but was only minutes. Then the first tremors started, faint initially then more pronounced. She heard a noise behind and turned. There, standing back down the passage was LeSouris. Watching. A movement behind him confirmed the drow’s presence. She had been out manoeuvred. Her heart sank; she looked back at the cavern. The tremors became more violent and the roof collapsed filling the passageway between her and the cavern. It was impassable.

  The Beekeeper was trapped or dead. There was nothing she could do. Q’uaina turned to face her enemies but saw they had fled. She in turn made her escape following them, back the way she had come. She fluttered through the dusty passageway as more aftershocks rocked the cave system. Just as she reached the cave entrance a huge section of rock collapsed behind her and she was propelled out the cave entrance in a choking cloud of dust.

  She flew on through the dust and somehow managed to escape its cloying effect. She made for and alighted upon the branch of a nearby tree. She decided the dust was a mixed blessing as she saw LeSouris and S’Jukdara lying in wait near the cave entrance. Whether or not they suspected she had been there she was not sure. She was grateful for the protection the dust had provided for her escape. Visibility was slowly improving and she could hear the drow coughing.

  “Well that went well.” LeSouris’ sarcastic comment pierced the air.

  “How was I to know he was going to take on your elemental like that?” the drow replied.

  “Where does that leave us then? Will his daughter come running or not?”

  S’Jukdara flashed a dangerous smile. “Oh yes, she will come. This event will be made known to her. I shall see to that. As blood kin she will feel pain now that her father is dead.” A wicked smile broke on his lips.

  “Well our horses have gone, there’s a surprise. Could’ve been the old man or maybe the earth tremors that made them panic. I’ll track them down. They’ll not be far.”

  While LeSouris went off in search of their horses. S’Jukdara produced some powders from a pouch around his neck. Along with some small bones, he crouched on the ground and started an incantation. More dark magic Q’uaina thought. She decided to leave the scene and head straight to the horses before LeSouris had a chance to reach them. She was done here, she needed to escape and find Agathe.

  She fluttered across the clearing and once out of sight shape shifted back to human form. Heading straight to where she and the Beekeeper had left the horses, she untied them and mounted the roan mare. She decided to head west, which had been the original plan when she was with Agathe. She needed to find and intercept her friend before she was drawn into the drow’s trap.

  Her blood was cold and her mind numb from her experiences of the last few days. Somehow, she managed to steel herself and find the strength to carry on. As long as she had breath left in her, she would fight on. Her thoughts were with the Beekeeper, his spirit trapped or forfeit somewhere below in his cold subterranean tomb.

  ~

  Carutha felt different. Something had changed within her. It had to do with the Shard. She shivered in the cold. She needed to warm up and move. She felt vulnerable, conspicuous, a black mark against this pristine snowy wilderness. There was nothing she could do except press on and find some shelter. In the distance on a high ridge, she saw trees. She started towards them.

  Walking through the deep snow was exhausting and slow work. It kept her warm however. Her breath frosted the freezing air. After an hour, she arrived at the ridge and entered the trees. They were deciduous and their leaves had fallen, victims of the phoney winter created by the Shiffante.

  She came across an old yew
tree that had been struck by lightening, its trunk hollow. She climbed in, away from the wind and took shelter. She used some dry kindling and sticks to make a small fire, which helped raise her spirits and provide warmth.

  Carutha had no plan. She was lost, a fugitive. She did not know what to do. There was no one here in this place she could call a friend. She had never felt so alone. She looked outside, it had started snowing. Her tracks would be covered in no time. The wind strengthened and the snow became heavier. Soon a full-blown blizzard raged. She was lucky she had found the hollow yew.

  Her stomach cramped with hunger. She curled up next to the fire pressing her fists into her abdomen to ease the pain. She wondered if she would ever wake from this nightmare that had befallen her. After a while, darkness fell and a fitful sleep took her briefly away from reality.

  Carutha’s dream swept her softly back in memory to childhood years. Joyous times held and reassured her. Familiar faces made her laugh and smile. There was her mother, Lilithe and her father Silurian. Her favourite haunts as a little girl, the weeping willow and the cherry blossom, heavy with flower in spring. Her hiding places by the river. Her friends and little dog Icis, her constant companion.

  Then her dream took her to more recent events. She saw her entrapment in the Blood Fields, her escape through Q’uaina, her host, and then she felt the pain again of her rebirth. The agony had taken her breath away. The nightmare faltered then replayed her rebirth repeatedly. Slowly something unfolded within her, something to do with the Shard. She had been given Erthe power and could now access that gift. The dream leapt and she saw herself standing where Q’uaina had put on Silurian’s ring releasing the drop of blood that had brought her back to life.

  Then the dream jumped and she was back in the Blood Fields. She felt an overwhelming sense of purpose and knew instantly she needed to return there. Something there needed to be activated; a bridge between the Blood Fields and her world was to be opened in order to defeat the Shiffante. The Shard had empowered her somehow to do this. She just had to figure out how.

  Carutha awoke with a start. She was frozen and stiff. The fire had gone out, she could make out the dark outlines of her surroundings. All was quiet, all lay still. Her dream was vivid in her memory. She heard her heart beating slowly and rhythmically in her chest. She had to warm up, find some food, water and start moving. She knew she needed to return to the pyramid, to the place of her death and rebirth. This was the key.

  She stared out at the silence of the forest and shivered. A flicker, a movement? The deep crunch of snow. Then a presence, that same presence she had felt before.

  Shiffante.

  Chapter 33

  The Dark Heart

  “Come out, reveal yourself to us.” The voice was compressed from many into one. Devoid of emotion. Flat, dead. “Do not make us wait. We knew you would return. It was inevitable.”

  Carutha had no options. She stirred and moved her cold stiffened limbs. Her hope all but gone she steeled herself for a swift end. She stepped out of the ancient tree and held her hands above her head. She was immediately grabbed, bound and gagged by unseen hands. She shut her mind down in a defensive measure just like her father had taught her to. She retreated to a room deep within herself and shut the door.

  Time passed. Minutes, hours, days. Carutha was only vaguely aware of her surroundings. It had registered that she had been taken some distance from the yew tree but little else penetrated her consciousness. She was aware that unseen hands had tended her bodily needs. She had been fed and had received fluids. Her body mechanically chewing and swallowing. Her mind and spirit divorced from the outer world continued their lonely vigil locked away in self imposed internal exile.

  Through her numbness, she felt some inner strength as yet untapped. Lying, waiting for the right trigger to be released. Her body was explored; hands and tools probed her, trying to goad her from her secure inner room by using pain, torture. Her physical pain was real, she did cry out; her strong room kept her mind safe. She was remote, distant, disconnected.

  Shiffante voices mocked, cajoled, searched for a weak spot, a chink to gain access to her secrets, to her power. Still she resisted.

  The Shiffante lord finished its work. It hovered around Carutha’s broken form. Her limbs twisted and shattered. Blood, bruises, torn ligaments and muscles, weeping sores oozing after unspeakable torture. The Shiffante dropped its tools. It had tattooed a series of wicked looking runes onto the skin surrounding her mouth.

  “The runes of truth will force this last Shinalese to speak. Tell us all you know of the other dimensions, of your friends, of the one called LeSouris and the other S’Jukdara, of the Aerithryl Shard. Once you have unburdened yourself of this information we will allow you to die as you should have done by our hands all those years ago here in this place.”

  Carutha felt a power uncoil within her. The runes that had been tattooed to her mouth exerted a strange effect. She felt her skin burn and the door of her inner room felt weakened. She watched as her barrier blistered with heat from the outside. Cracks appeared in the door and white light seemed to burn through and into her soul. She felt her inner world unravelling.

  Then her mind latched onto something the Shiffante had said:

  “…we will allow you to die as you should have done by our hands all those years ago here in this place…”

  “…here in this place…”

  She let her inner door open. She allowed her consciousness to be dragged out and back up to awareness. Her body flooded her mind with pain. She gritted her teeth and fought back. Her swollen and bruised eyes registered what she had hoped for. The arrogance of them. This was their undoing. They had brought her back to the place Silurian had sacrificed her. She was back on the dais in the hidden room in the nation’s pyramid. Exactly where she needed to be.

  “…here in this place…”

  “Speak, speak my reluctant one…there is no more need to hide. Reveal all to usss…then you can know of death, oblivion, away from all this pain. Yesss…that’s it open and reveal.”

  Carutha could feel the Shiffante runes burn into her consciousness and she heard her voice start to speak, it was unrecognisable, broken.

  She spoke of home, of family, of her people. She spoke of what she missed and of what she held in her heart. She spoke of truth and nonsense. All the while, she was aware of the Shiffante closing in on the information they were seeking. These pearls of intelligence they would use. They sifted her memories and words keeping those valuable to them and discarding those that were of no use.

  Carutha no longer fought the runes binding her mouth. Instead, she allowed them free reign, they took over. She knew something deeper however was at work. She felt her body slip from her and realised she was dying. They were sucking the life force from her. She had been here before and had no fear. She allowed the slow descent into welcoming nothingness take her. The dark embraced her and at last, her inner light faltered and extinguished.

  ~

  Agathe looked at Ossian. He was lost for words.

  Veran snorted and spat on the ground. His drawn bow still trained on Agathe. Ossian without looking, signalled him to lower his weapon. Veran reluctantly complied.

  Agathe stepped forwards. Her skin pale and drawn, her eyes dark and haunted by sorrow. Ossian detected a change in her. She was different; his heart still beat faster in her presence. His stomach still performed somersaults. There was alchemy between them.

  She stopped. “Ossian? Is that you? I thought you were…” her words trailed off. “After the last mirrorpool I thought we…”

  “It’s me, Agathe.” Ossian’s voice strong, direct. “We’ve come a long way, we have stories to tell each other.” He stepped up to her and embraced her fiercely. She was waif like, had lost much weight, and had obviously been through her own pain and torment, but it was his Agathe. He smiled, this woman brought warmth and joy to his heart.

  She held him close. “I’d not dared hope, the things t
hat have happened, the things we’ve seen.” Tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

  They found some shelter in a nearby copse of trees beside the river. Veran started a fire and they made camp for the evening. As the light faded and the wind took up, Agathe and Ossian brought each other up to date on events that had happened since they had last seen each other. Veran listened quietly, in rapt attention.

  When they had finished, they ate cooked rabbit and drank rosehip tea. The warmth of the fire and of each other’s presence soothed their fatigued and worn bodies. Silence descended. They watched the flickering flames.

  Ossian scratched his unshaven face. “Well, I guess we now need to find Q’uaina, and your father.”

  Agathe nodded but did not speak.

  “We stand a better chance together, you can take to the skies. Veran and I can cover the ground. If needs be I can shift also. It can become enticing to stay as a wolf. Have you found it so when you are in bird form? It ‘s a struggle to return to this… limited human body.”

  She nodded. “But not any more… as I have found you.”

  He smiled. “And I you.”

  Veran let out a loud snore. He had nodded off some time earlier. The temperature dropped and the stars twinkled brightly in the hard night sky above.

  Ossian stood up. “I’ll take first watch, then Veran and you my love need to sleep. Build your strength. For we’ll have need of you in the skies tomorrow to lead our way.”

  She started to protest but his mind was set and she gratefully laid her head down beside the fire. He put his blanket over her, within a few minutes, her breathing had changed, and she was asleep. Ossian turned his attention to the sounds of the night.

  He climbed a nearby tree and watched for danger. The minutes trickled into hours. He was alert, awake, his mind flooded with feeling for the woman below him. He dared let his imagination wander to thoughts of sharing his future years with Agathe.