Her vision compensated for the lack of light and she made her way cautiously along the passage. It angled steeply for a prolonged section becoming almost vertical in places. Agathe would have run into serious trouble had she entered the passage.
Onwards the darkness beckoned. She followed. It took her down deeper and deeper. A distant sound came to her. She followed the sound and it grew louder. She knew what it was. An underground river. If she could find it, it could take her back upstream perhaps to the whispering cave system. Her hope ignited.
Q’uaina followed her instinct and was soon rewarded by finding the river in the darkness. A blind watercourse running through the living rock, carving its passage over the millenia. No human eyes should see this place. She reminded herself that in this form she was not human. She kept going.
The river was wide, fast running and shallow. The passage it had cut was narrow in places where the rock was harder and wider where the rock had softened. She lost all sense of time in the darkness. The air was cold; she looked back at her wings and saw that they glowed red and green in the dark. The red areas of her body were also generating warmth to keep her going.
The minutes passed. An hour, then two. Then the air changed and the narrow confines of the river channel burst into a large chamber. She fluttered upwards and her senses told her that the cavern was indeed huge. She wondered if this was the same cavern she had seen the Beekeeper enter before the passage collapsed. She then remembered the dark elemental being LeSouris had summoned. She proceeded warily upwards.
Her vision gave her a clear picture of the space she was in. Water was pouring down from above. She could imagine the cavern being partially submerged after heavy rains. There was the ledge and the opening to the passage where she had last seen the Beekeeper.
There was no trace of any living thing. She continued fluttering upwards into the unknown ceiling of the cavern. After another twenty minutes, she came to a small waterfall pouring out of the rock. It had created a sizeable opening that disappeared in the dark. She flew in and was immediately taken by a draught pulling her upwards. Q’uaina struggled to control her flight; her strength was rapidly flagging. Then she saw a pinprick of light above.
She threw all her remaining energy into pursuing the light. It grew in size and the current of air whipped her up in its embrace. She burst out from a sizeable hole in the rock, into bright sunshine.
Q’uaina collapsed on the earth and passed out. She awoke a short time later, her body drained and weak. She stretched out and allowed the sun’s warmth sooth her aching muscles. She had shifted back to her human form when unconscious. Looking around she saw some shapes in the earth. At first, they did not make any sense to her addled mind. Then she saw them for what they were.
Footprints.
Could they possibly be?
Q’uaina stood and followed the footsteps through the muddy ground. She staggered and slipped at intervals. The terrain was a mixture of peat and earth. The footprints were clear in places but difficult to find elsewhere. She managed to follow them for half an hour and then came to an abrupt halt. Her eyes did not believe what they saw.
There in front of her was a mountain lake. The footsteps disappeared into the lake. A light mist covered the waters and as she stared it parted temporarily. She saw an island in the loch. On the island lay a ruin. Ramparts, a tower covered in ivy, creepers and weeds. A forlorn sight.
She debated what to do. There were only five or six hours of light left. She turned and headed back the way she had come to find the others. She reasoned she could reach them above ground a lot quicker than it had taken her to arrive at this place from underground.
Q’uaina’s instinct proved right. She was back with Agathe, Ossian and the light walkers in just under three hours. She described all she had seen to her friends. They were taken aback by her news.
“Illiana, do your people know anything about this ruin in the lake?” Q’uaina asked.
“There was tell of a necromancer who used to inhabit the place, but that was generations ago. In truth, I think they are just idle tales. No, the place is a forgotten ruin, just a pile of rubble as far as we are concerned.”
“We’ve got to go now, while the trail is still warm,” Agathe declared.
Ossian shook his head. “No, Agathe. Look, Q’uaina is exhausted. She needs rest. It’ll be dark soon. We can go at first light. We’ll be fresher and will cover the ground easier. The last thing we need now is for someone to injure themselves through tiredness.”
“Besides, there’s the deer we caught. It’ll taste good once we’ve roasted it this evening,” Illiana smiled.
Agathe relaxed and raised her eyebrows. “You’re all right. Yes of course. Thank you Q’uaina, so much, for all your efforts. I’m in debt to you.”
Q’uaina smiled. “You would’ve done the same for me.”
“Right then let’s see about this venison shall we?” Ossian rubbed his hands, licked his lips and strode off to where the light walkers had made camp and were preparing the meat.
They all gathered around for the roast venison. The meat was tasty and their spirits soared. Agathe had completed her own successful nocturnal hunt for her blood meal. The clouds cleared and the stars lay sprinkled around the heavens. Tales of the ancestors were swapped and memories of good times revisited.
Agathe’s turn to speak came. The firelight bathed her face in moving shadows. Her eyes looked sad, forlorn. “I never new my mother. She was taken from us when I was little. She died one winter with a sickness. Father was left to raise me. He had always kept bees. He taught me how to look after them, but I was never as good at it as him. He had, has a gift you see.”
A tear formed in the corner of Agathe’s eye. She wiped it away and continued. “Over the years, the honey the bees produced became purer and clearly had healing properties. People came from far and wide to buy our honey. Father said the bees talked to him and he spoke to them also. Then one day, I came upon my father and he was dancing with the bees. I mean in a swarm. It was difficult to see him. It was as if he had become one with the swarm.
“He told me afterwards that he had seen me standing there staring. He tried to explain that he had accessed what he described as Erthe lore through the bees. He said it was a wonderful, untamed, and wild force of nature. Healing and destruction all rolled into one. A difficult concept to explain to a young girl.”
Agathe’s eyes took on a far away look as she continued. “He told me that I’d been touched by this Erthe lore too. Through tending the bees and eating their honey, I had tapped into this same rich vein. Except in my case it was birds I grew close to. Birds always seemed to come to me. Resting on my arms or shoulders or even head.” She laughed at this, some distant memory shining brightly.
“So you see, I’m bonded to my father not just through blood but through Erthe lore. I just know he’s still alive. That’s why we must find him. I think he means to protect us. I think he means to take on the Shiffante himself, alone. I can’t allow that. I need to be there for him. It’s that simple.” The fire crackled in front of them. Everyone lost in their thoughts.
Ossian lent forwards. “I’m with you.”
Q’uaina reached out and took Agathe’s hand. “We’re all in this together. Even if we cannot find Carutha, we may still be able to help by distracting the Shiffante. So count me in.”
“We are duty bound to protect out land,” Illiana declared. “But rest assured you will always have a safe haven here as long as light walkers still live.”
The night deepened and with guards on watch, they all slept. The darkest hour came and went and night passed uneventfully. At first light, they broke camp and departed. The light walkers came as escort and Q’uaina led the way. They covered the ground quickly and were at the lake in less than two hours. The early morning sun was bright and low. The mysterious footprints were still visible on the shore clearly leading to the water’s edge.
Chapter 37
Necrom
ancy
“How are we going to get out to the island?” Ossian said aloud.
“I’ll shift to bird form and fly there. Father may have swam across,” Agathe replied.
“Perhaps there’s a boat?” Q’uaina suggested.
“Right then I’ll head off. If I find a boat, I’ll return with it. You might want to check along the shoreline and see if you can find anything.” With that, Agathe shape shifted into her eagle form and flew across the lake to the island. On reaching it, she circled before landing on top of the ruined tower.
Right away, she spotted the skiff. The little boat was drawn up on the shore near some trees. She flew down to the water’s edge and changed back to her human form. A quick check of the skiff revealed a perfectly good vessel. She was torn between immediately returning to the others with the skiff or exploring a little further. Her curiosity took over and she entered the tangled undergrowth surrounding the ruins.
A brief check of the site revealed that everything above ground was ruinous. She was about to return to the shore when she noticed a doorway and stair leading down below ground. She hesitated but then decided to descend. The steps were damp and mossy. In one or two places she saw footprints. She continued down, her sight accommodating to the darkness.
The stairs finished and she came to a doorway; its wood long since rotted away. She entered the room beyond and found herself in a large hall with a great vaulted ceiling. She explored the room and found it to be empty. In the corner, however she came across another rougher hewn passageway leading down through the bedrock itself. She steeled herself and descended further into the bowels of the ruin.
Water dripped onto her face from above and she almost banged her head a few times the ceiling was so low. The sense of claustrophobia was suffocating but she persisted and came to a dead end. Bare rock faced her. What was the point of this stair? She reached out and touched the damp stone. She felt a slight tingle in her fingertips. Then an image flashed through her mind.
She saw a bearded man wearing a blue velvet cape standing in the chamber above. The necromancer. A ghostly gathering surrounded him; an army of lycanthropes. He was summoning more to do his bidding in some long forgotten struggle. She took in this scene as an observer. The necromancer’s head snapped up, he turned and looked directly into her eyes.
“Help me,” he said and held his hands out to her.
Agathe jumped in fright and slipped on the slime covered steps. She lurched forwards with her arms outstretched and fell through the wall in front of her, into another room. The wall had been an illusion. She had seen an echo of the past; briefly, she had witnessed a scene that must have taken place many years ago. Ghosts of memories had imprinted themselves within the living rock.
She stood in the new room, her eyes wide in surprise. There before her stood her father and behind him lay a blue shimmering mirrorpool.
“Father!” Agathe’s voice sounded small in the chamber. “Father, I’ve found you. You’ve survived the caves. What are you doing here? Where have you been all this time?” She ran to him arms open to embrace him. Her body passed through his. She stood there shocked, uncomprehending.
Agathe turned. “Father?” her voice tremulous.
The Beekeeper turned to face her. “Agathe, this image is a message I have left for you in case you followed me. This place is enchanted by necromancy; it is good at capturing memories. You may have sensed the necromancer’s words already in these walls. He is long dead but his plea remains. He is not at peace.
“I have come here to release his spirit, to give him peace. In exchange for his army of lycanthropes. His spirit is locked in this stone for all eternity. If he releases his power, against the Shiffante, the Erthe will grant him sanctuary and he will find peace. We have to fight evil with evil.”
Agathe stood spellbound and listened in rapt attention to her father’s words. Her heart was pounding.
Her father’s image continued. “Just as you, my daughter have changed in recent weeks and your friends too, so have I. The Erthe has chosen us to fight on her behalf. We will all play our own individual roles in the unfolding struggle. These final days are crucial. Balance needs to be restored. Our mother has been awoken and she is angry.
“I have passed through this mirrorpool and woven with the necromancer’s spirit. We together will be stronger to fight the Shiffante. Your friend Carutha is also on a journey to the same end. We must all join forces and beset the Shiffante. When you are ready, together with your friends, cross over using this mirrorpool to the Shiffante realm. Bring the fight to them in any way you can. Know this my beloved daughter; you are my heart, my wellspring, my joy. I will love you always. Be safe.” With this, the Beekeeper’s image flickered and faded, its story told.
Agathe stood for long minutes; still, absorbing what had been said to her. She let the message filter and bed down in her consciousness. Her father was alive, he loved her and he was still fighting for them all. A mixture of emotions ran through her all at once. Fear, pride, anger, determination. She stiffened. Finally, she knew what she must do. She took one last look at the blue, shimmering mirrorpool and went back the way she had come. She would return to her friends and tell them the news.
~
Carutha almost did not feel the first touch. The Shiffante were probing the Blood Fields’ boundaries gently, covertly. Stroking. She breathed slowly concentrating, allowing them to trace her through the barrier. She could feel their collective excitement, their anticipation at being so close to their goal. Their whisperings and enticements reached her and made her shiver like a lover.
The Shiffante spoke to her in textures and flavours exploring her through her senses. Vivid reds, saffron, and citrus pangs flooded her consciousness. Behind the crush of their advances, she was aware they were probing to assess her strength and reserves. They had not crossed into the spirit world before. The Blood Fields were just another dimension for them to conquer. The Shiffante recognised no boundaries.
She let them in. She let them see her alone, vulnerable, afraid. She had separated her spirit army and S’acryx from her essence. The Shiffante were inflamed when they found and tasted her fear, her loneliness. Finally, they would round up this last recalcitrant soul. Their unfinished business would be concluded. They would move on to the next challenge.
The Shiffante intrusions became more insistent. Stronger. Carutha knew they would be suspicious if she made it too easy for them so she strengthened her resistance. Her spirit clung to the Blood Fields, drawing upon its very fabric. The Blood Fields held, her spirit remained secure, safe for the moment.
She knew this first Shiffante incursion would be just one of many. They would return, stronger the next time. More resolute, full of anger and darkness. She would keep the game up for as long as possible. She would learn with each encounter their weaknesses, their vulnerabilities.
Only when she was prepared would she strike, unleashing her spirit army into the Shiffante collective. Her army would release their insanity into the Shiffante consciousness. Carutha would take her revenge and drink deep of the Shiffante destruction.
~
The Shiffante shifted in the void. It knew the girl’s little game. It had being toying with her; well aware she had recruited an army of spirit children and once men. It would relish the soul rending; more pleasurable than flesh rending. They would let her think she had the upper hand; it would be more enjoyable that way. More pleasure for them to taste her disappointment and anguish when she knew she had been tricked, out manoeuvred.
Shiffante had always been, would always be, all-powerful. The collective shifted in its consciousness. It sent out feelers to all its realms. The vampire and drow had also been taken care of, less work for it. A feeling of well being, almost benevolence welled up inside the Shiffante’s dark heart. It would finally reach its goal of destroying the Erthe and her lore, obliterating and wiping out all memory of her for eternity.
The Shiffante was satisfied; it was pleased w
ith its work.
~
Agathe had reached the others by nightfall.
“Where were you? We were worried sick!” Q’uaina declared when Agathe landed the little skiff on the lake shore.
“Come Agathe, over to the fire. Take my cloak, get warm. We have some broth on the fire. When you’re ready you can tell us everything.” Ossian took control. Agathe looked exhausted, cold and hungry. As if she had seen a ghost, he thought.
Everyone gathered around the fire to hear Agathe’s news. She told them everything. Her voice broke a few times when she spoke about her father. When she finished the others sat in stunned silence.
Q’uaina stood up. “It makes sense that your father has experienced the quickening of his gifts just like we have. The Erthe, she has called us to arms. We must do everything in our power to protect her. These are extraordinary times.”
Ossian shivered. “I thought I’d seen the last of the Shiffante realm. I’ll not relish returning there. All that snow and death. At least we’re together again,” he looked at Agathe.
“There’s no time to lose, this cannot even wait until the morning. We need to go now.” Agathe stood, her face haunted by her father’s message.
“I agree, time is of the essence. Your father and Carutha need our help. Let’s head over there now.” Q’uaina gathered up her weapons and turned to the lake shore.
They readied themselves and all managed to fit in the skiff. Ossian rowed the little vessel out onto the cold lake. Illiana and her men stood on the shore and waved farewell to them. Gradually their forms disappeared into the night. The dark shape of the island loomed up in the darkness. Soon they stood upon its shore.
“Follow me,” Agathe said.
They set off through the undergrowth towards the ruins in the distance. The tumbling walls resembled broken teeth in the moonlight. The windows looked like empty eye sockets staring sightlessly down at them.
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