Nyori picked Eymunder up again, staring at it in wonder. "It seems impossible. Why me?"
Ayna continued to flex her fingers. "Some of the fusorbs were reportedly handed down from one generation to the next. Perhaps it is as Leilavin told you. You might well be a descendent of the Elious. The ancient blood still exists in some family lines. I too descend from their line, which is why I have been able to master a crude understanding of some of their arts. The Glyphs are all that remains of the craft of Apokrypy, and any relics that still bear those runes are few and widely scattered."
Nyori continued to study the rod. "If Apokrypy is truly lost, what am I to do with this? Without knowledge of its use, it is only a crystal wand."
Ayna dropped her gaze to the tabletop and was silent for a long moment. Long enough for Nyori to cease staring at Eymunder and look at her mentor in concern.
"Mistress Ayna?"
Ayna lifted her head. "You will have to leave, Nyori. That is what you are to do."
Nyori stared. "Leave? You mean Halladen? What did I do wrong? I didn't mean to–"
Ayna placed her hand on top of Nyori's. "It is nothing you did, little sister. Had I a choice then I would take this burden upon myself. But Eymunder has bonded to you. And it must leave this place. All of Halladen is threatened the longer you remain here. They are coming for you, Nyori."
Nyori felt her heart quicken. "Who? Who is coming?" She knew the answer before Ayna spoke. A bloodless face with glimmering blue eyes gazed balefully from the recesses of her memory.
"The Pale Lord has long waited for this moment, Nyori. He has had his will fixed upon this day, ever impatient to reclaim what was snatched from his grasp. He will stop at nothing to possess Eymunder. And he will bring fire, blood, and death to any who stand in the way of his obsession."
Nyori felt sweat bead upon her brow. She distractedly wiped it with the back of her hand. "But it happened only days ago. How could he have planned anything in such a short amount of time?"
Ayna gazed at her with pity in her eyes. "Where do you think you went, Nyori? Were you not told that time held no sway in Everfell?"
Nyori clutched her fingers together to keep them from trembling. "What are you saying? What does time have to do with this?"
"The man you saw was without a doubt Alaric Aelfvalder, the Pale Lord and king of the Co'nane–the True Blood as they call themselves. They were once Aelon before they chose to remain behind when the rest of their kind departed from our world. Cut off from their source of immortality, they foolishly accepted a pact with Leilavin to regain it. In turn, they became akhkharu–soul drinkers and the bane of mankind. They gained immortality of a sort, but at great cost–it could only be sustained by feeding on pran–the life force of human beings.
"Enraged, they warred with Leilavin in an attempt to cure themselves of their terrible curse. Alaric believed Eymunder was the key to doing so. But Leilavin was not one to stomach rebellion. She crafted the Reavers, near-indestructible golems that were resistant to the Crafts of the akhkharu. Their mission was simple: to destroy the akhkharu entirely. They were almost successful."
Ayna looked at Nyori directly in the eyes. "You know some of this because you saw Alaric. You heard him speak of defeating the Reavers with the sword Mothros. What you do not know is that the battle between Alaric and the Reavers occurred ages ago. The Age of Chaos, to be exact. Before the Age of Despair, before the Age of Kings. Hundreds of years in the past, Nyori. Closer to a thousand, I would believe."
Nyori stared at Eymunder. It was as though by concentrating on the wand, her sanity would have an anchor to prevent it from being dashed to pieces against the bombardment of revelations Ayna continued to drop upon her.
Ayna's face was empathetic, but her words were not. "You encountered the Pale Lord across the valley of time, in a place where time does not exist. Or if it does, it operates as a bridge from one time to another. That bridge is burned now, the Eye shattered. Whether it was a trap or a predetermined action that sent you into Everfell is inconsequential now. Whatever the case, to you it has only been days since you encountered Alaric. To him, it has been centuries."
Nyori shook her head, trying to take it all in. "But how could he know where I am? As far as he knew, I could have gone anywhere in the world once the Pool took me."
Ayna looked around the room and lowered her voice. "The akhkharu have eyes everywhere. Ears that listen from the shadows. That is why you have been secluded since the incident. They have agents that are completely under their spell. They are called Thralls. Ordinary and undetectable, people you may have known your entire life. They can be anywhere. From the meanest village to the grandest palace. And yes, even here. You are not safe, Nyori. Nor are any of us so long as Eymunder remains here."
Nyori saw the flames in her mind's eye. The screams of people she knew, slaughtered by shadowy attackers with eyes that blazed with unearthly light. Bodies strewn across the grounds like toppled statues. People she loved, bleeding and broken.
"I won't put anyone in danger because of me." She swallowed the fear that clung like brambles in her throat. Where will I go?"
"I have met with the Circle of Sha. Together we have searched all we know of the akhkharu through history and legend. There are not many known ways to defeat them, but we must make ready regardless, for they are sure to arrive. There is a place of safety we know of. A forgotten city where the Tome of Apokrypy is hidden. It belonged to Teranse the Reader and is a companion to Eymunder. With it, you will be better equipped to understand the use of Eymunder and its related Crafts. My brother and another guide I trust will accompany you."
"Only two?"
"The fewer that know, the better. A larger company would only attract unwanted notice. At first light, you can slip away with them on a scouting jaunt and none will be the wiser. You will not return until it is safe, Nyori."
Nyori swallowed, and her eyes blurred. Somehow she managed to hold back the treacherous tears. "Then I must leave before my training is complete? Will I see you again, Mistress?"
Ayna smiled and gently squeezed Nyori's hand. "This is a parting, dear sister, but not a permanent one. We will see one another again, I promise."
Nyori scrubbed her eyes, nodding. "Why is this happening? Norna told me everything has changed. I didn't know what she meant, but now–"
Ayna's face was without expression. Only her eyes seemed alive, glimmering like liquid gold. "What you experienced is only a thread of a much larger tapestry. The akhkharu stir, and where they advance, like a shadow is the Reaver. Events shift around us even as we speak. Events that will affect us all. And despite your inexperience, you will have to play a part. Perhaps the most important part of all."
Ayna's gaze sharpened when it returned to Nyori. "Gather your things quickly. Time is running out for all of us."
Chapter 5: Alaric
Alaric felt it when it emerged into the world, rising from steaming waters of azure and burning amber. He could almost feel its golden rays upon his skin. Eymunder, the last hope of his people was once again within his grasp.
So long. It has been so long since last I was in its presence...
He recalled the day with painstaking clarity. Once again, he beheld the fear on the face of the mystery woman who bonded with Eymunder. Leilavin shoved her into the waters of the Blueshift Ring where the sapphire liquid swallowed her, casting her across time and space. The Ring had reset itself immediately, making it impossible for Alaric to follow. Leilavin had taken advantage of his distraction and pulled a final vanishing act, leaving him in her rapidly deteriorating Threshold. He had barely made it out alive as it distorted and toppled around him.
That was nearly a millennium ago. When recalling the moment, it felt like yesterday. When suffering the agony of waiting, he felt the traces of chalky dust from the slowly grinding wheels of time. Every day that passed without news of Eymunder he considered a day wasted, and he had wasted so many days in his endless vigil.
"Alari
c." The familiar voice cut through his focus, pulling him from his meditative trance.
His silken robes rustled when he turned, though his focus of Levitation kept him hovering cross-legged over a white-fibered woven mat in the center of his meditation chamber. The room was circular, the whorled scrollwork intricately carved, the ceiling ceremoniously domed. All of it was lacquered in white, as though the inclusion of color would disturb the sensation of floating into nothing.
Serona Duvainael stood a few paces away, garbed as if to match the room in a clinging, cream-colored layered gown that left one shoulder bare, cinched at the waist by a wide sash. Bands of beaten gold circled one arm and both wrists. A golden wreath of leaves and flowers crowned the swath of wavy hair, dark as a night sky tinged with violet when touched by the light. From the almond-shaded sheen of her skin to the purple shade of her eyes, beauty was Serona's natural adornment and she wore it with casual grace.
Absorbed as Alaric had been, he hadn't sensed her approach. It was no wonder; he was never to be disturbed while meditating. Her intrusion meant she came with something significant. The flush on her face, the shimmer in her eyes verified what he already knew. He let her speak anyway.
"News has been passed to me from our agents in Edinia, the abode the domestics call Halladen." She hesitated for a second, her full lips parted. "It is as you have said for so long. Someone has recovered Eymunder."
"I know," he said softly. She glanced at him in surprise. He released his focus on Levitation, drifting down onto the mat before he smoothly rose and clasped his hands behind his back. "I am attuned to its energies, Serona. I sensed it the moment it reemerged into the world. What do you know of the girl who bonded to it?"
"Her name is Nyori Sharlin. She was being initiated as a Shama when the Blueshift Ring took her into Leilavin's domain. None of the Sha anticipated the incident. It simply occurred as though the Eye of Everfell acted of its own accord."
Alaric contemplated for a moment. "Nyori Sharlin." He let the name hang in the air before softly exhaling. "Nyori, you cannot imagine the damage you have inflicted. But at long last our paths will cross again." He turned his attention to Serona. "How soon before our Blueshift Ring can attune to theirs? I mean to have Eymunder in hand before sunset."
She eyed him askance. "You will go in person? The Blood Legion is on hand, awaiting only your orders."
"I mean to take the Legion. But I will lead them. Eymunder must not fall into the wrong hands again."
Serona hesitated. "Alaric. Take the time to think about this."
He gave her a stern glance. "I have had more than enough time, Serona."
The years after his failure passed agonizingly slow. Then decades. Then centuries. The entire landscape of the world rippled and altered as the sea of humanity heaved and tossed about. Kingdoms and boundaries rose and fell, tugged by the invisible strings of his people. At one time he took an interest in such things. But the taste of defeat had soured the appeal; the manipulation of humanity lost its luster. The concerns of his kind were paramount, and his people were still cursed, still forced to feed on human stock. Leilavin never resurfaced, hidden somewhere in Everfell, too wise to show her face. All the while Alaric had waited, knowing at some point Eymunder would make its way back into the world.
So he drifted. Reluctant to focus on anything outside of Eymunder, he delegated his duties. As Caretaker of the Blood, Jacquelis was more than qualified to oversee the day-to-day operations of the Co'nane. She did so with stern meticulousness, painstakingly attentive to the details Alaric would have missed. No longer interested in the comings and goings of men, he allowed Serona free rein to handle the intricacies of maneuvering human events. The assignment required her to spend much time away from the palace, which may have been why Alaric chose her for the task.
Her gaze locked with his. "It is not the wise course to expose yourself this way. Will you not hear me, Alaric?"
Serona...
If he regretted anything about his decision to confront Leilavin, it was the cost to the other half of his soul. Serona was more than his queen, more than the love he placed above all others. They had become solestra–bound for life, souls intertwined as one. One would not long survive the other should death claim them separately. He remembered the ceremony, the binding of Mental, Elemental, and Aetheric energies that joined the two of them together as one.
Alaric smiled as the memory resurfaced; pain and bliss conjoined much as he and Serona had been. The lustrous gaze on her face as their emotions blended, as the core of her became his and his became hers. The sensation was beyond expression: liquid gold flowing through veins, static tingling hair roots, slivers of light flickering across the membrane of a wide open iris–nothing could compare to the sun-dusted fragrance of her nearness, the feeling of completeness when they were together.
All of that ground to ashes the moment he picked up Mothros, the Devourer.
The blade demanded to be bound as tightly as a solestra, forcing Alaric to sever his bond with Serona and reduce himself to half a person. Half a man tied to an anchor that would drag him to the Abyss no matter what he did. He came so close to losing himself when battling the Reavers. The blade had nearly devoured him. It had taken decades for his body to recover, his flesh to revive. Mothros itself lurked in the deepest of storerooms, bound in darkness yet behind unlocked doors without a single guard to protect it. A part of him wished someone would be insane enough to steal the Geod, but he knew the blade would instantly annihilate any other bearer other than himself. It was his burden.
It was his destroyer.
"I have been secluded for too long, Serona. Ever anxious for this moment to arrive. Now that it has, I will not stand aside and allow another to claim what is rightfully mine."
"Eymunder is rightfully bonded to another," Jacquelis' voice said. "Making you the thief this time."
Alaric sighed, gazing at the new intruder that stood in his doorway.
Jacquelis Morandal was a stern woman. Her face strikingly contrasted with Serona's in that her features were hardened instead of softly curved, cheekbones prominent, jaw strong, and her skin so pale it practically glimmered. In certain circles she was known as the Blood Mistress, and indeed her patterned gown was crimson, just like the mane of hair that hung unceremoniously to her back. Eyes like emerald chips glinted as she dipped her head respectfully, yet unapologetically. Jacquelis was Caretaker of the Blood, which meant she was only a step below Alaric, on equal standing with Serona. The two women were day and night, ever at odds with one another. Yet they stood together this time, gazing at him with equal disapproval.
Alaric folded his arms. "A technicality, Jacquelis. You know as well as I that Leilavin used the Shama as a foil to thwart me. I will not let some floundering novice deter my destiny for the sake of a mere bond. What is given can be taken away, something I know very well. And Nyori Sharlin will learn the same very soon."
"Then send the Blood Legion as Serona suggested. They are capable enough to overcome the pitiful Circle of Sha that protects the Shama. Allow Serona to go in your stead, or myself if you simply must overcompensate on supervision. But do not be foolish enough to walk into what could be a cunning trap."
Alaric narrowed his eyes. "What makes you believe a snare might await me?"
Jacquelis spoke with the tone of a born lecturer. "You are focused entirely on the wrong thing. You yearn so strongly for Eymunder, all the while ignoring the fact that the Blueshift Ring took the Shama to Everfell and Leilavin's aid at the most crucial moment."
"A mistake I plan to correct."
Jacquelis gazed imperiously at him. "Yet not for a moment do you wonder who it was that activated the Eye in the first place. Who it was that struck at you with perfect timing, ruining all you had fought and sacrificed for."
Despite his impatience, Alaric mulled over her words. "You're suggesting that an unknown enemy schemes against me. Someone would dare to pit their power against mine own."
"An unkno
wn enemy with knowledge of the Eye, the Blueshift Rings, and Everfell. An enemy who manipulated events perfectly, for reasons we cannot fathom. Tread carefully, Alaric. You would have considered this yourself, had you not been so withdrawn and obsessed with finding this girl."
Alaric's face heated. "I have not been idle while an Age has passed, Jacquelis. You accuse me of obsession? I admit it freely. My every thought has been focused on our salvation, the deliverance of our people. I have studied every scrap of information on the fusorbs, particularly the Geods."
The fervor in his voice rose when he turned to her. "You know of them as well as I. Six alpha fusorbs far more powerful than any others. The orb atop Eymunder is one of them, a Geod of near inexhaustible Elemental and Aetheric energies. Powerful enough to augment one's abilities a thousandfold." He paused, voice dropping to a near whisper. "Powerful enough to cure our people of this curse."
"An unproven theory, at best an earnest hope," Jacquelis said. "And one fraught with danger. You know of what the Geods were used for and why they were hidden away." She gave him a meaningful stare. "And even should you be able to somehow strip the Shama of her bond, what then? Our condition is irreversible, Leilavin assured us of that. We have only your word that this fusorb can provide a cure."
Alaric met her gaze evenly. "And is my word not good enough, Jacquelis?"
Her lips thinned, but she grudgingly dipped her head in acquiescence. "Your word has always been good, milord. I pray it shall continue to be so." When she raised her eyes, her face hardened in resolve once more. "But I still insist you send the Legion. The risk is too great, the situation too perilous for you to expose yourself. The very appearance of a Geod will alter events, tempting even the most dedicated to consider its power, quickly turning allies to enemies. I ask only one thing of you: not to destroy us in your haste to usher in our deliverance."
Alaric felt Serona's eyes upon him, waiting for his decision. He heard her softly exhaled relief when the words reluctantly dragged out. "Your advice is sound as always, Jacquelis. I will heed it. Inform Captain Sithe that the Legion is to sack Halladen immediately. He will show no mercy until Eymunder is reclaimed. Spare Nyori Sharlin unless the situation necessitates otherwise. It will be better if she is delivered to me alive."
The Eye of Everfell Page 5