by Peter Wacht
A Stirring
Catal Huyuk tore the blade of his massive axe from the neck of the Shade in which he had embedded it just seconds before, gore and blood flying through the air. He swung the weapon behind him in a backhanded stroke. The steel tip disappeared into the chest of the Shade that had tried to attack him from behind. The creature slumped to the ground, a gaping hole in its chest. He spun around, scanning the rocky enclosure. Another Shade stood at the far end, but made no move to attack. Instead, he motioned behind him. Two Ogren stepped around the Shade, brandishing their axes with glee. The two beasts howled with pleasure, saliva dripping from their sharp tusks. They saw an easy kill standing before them.
The tall warrior cursed his luck as he stepped around the bodies of the two Shades to meet the inevitable charge of his new adversaries. Where was Daran? This was supposed to be a simple task of surveillance. Follow one of the Ogren raiding parties plaguing the western Highlands near the Breaker and find out what was going on in the Charnel Mountains. Everything had gone as planned until Catal Huyuk had woken up just a few minutes before to find a Shade about to slit his throat and his friend nowhere to be found. The fight had been furious and fast, as Catal Huyuk surprised his attacker. Leaping from his blankets with his weapon already coming down toward the creature’s neck, the Shade didn’t stand a chance.
Now, it seemed as if Catal Huyuk didn’t stand a chance. The Ogren approached slowly, moving to opposite sides so they could attack from two different directions. Catal Huyuk didn’t allow them to follow their strategy. In a burst of speed, he was on the Ogren to his left before the beast knew what was going on. His axe slashed across the Ogren’s leg. The creature dropped to ground screaming in pain, his leg collapsing beneath him. He quickly drove the steel tip through the beast’s skull and turned to face the other Ogren.
Not wanting to give the Shade time to call for reinforcements, he was about to charge toward the other Ogren in an effort to end the skirmish as quickly as possible. Instead he dove to the ground, seeing the orange flame blazing toward him from the corner of his eye. The heat of the fireball passed over him, singeing his hair. The ball of fire crashed into the Ogren, consuming the creature in flames. Catal Huyuk didn’t know what was worse, the Ogren’s scream of anguish or the stench as the blackened corpse disintegrated into ash before his eyes. When he rose to his feet, he realized the Shade had disappeared.
“Where have you been?” he demanded angrily, turning to face his rescuer.
Daran Sharban jumped down from the rock overlooking the tiny battlefield to stand before his friend, a grin on his face. “I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?” The red-haired man’s eyes twinkled with glee as he surveyed his friend’s handiwork. “The call of nature, but I had not expected this.”
Catal Huyuk spit in disgust. “Never mind. Gather your things. We need to get out of these mountains. Your using the Talent here will probably draw every warlock within a hundred leagues.” The tall warrior immediately began rolling up his blankets after wiping the blade of his axe on the cloth of one of the Shade’s garments.
“What, no thank you?” asked Daran in mock anger. He was going to say more, but recognized the serious expression on his friend’s face. His humor would have to wait. “Ah, well. You’re probably right. We’ve learned more than enough already.”
Indeed they had, thought Catal Huyuk, as he cinched his pack together. He saw that Daran was already set to go, so they immediately trotted off to the south. They had been in the Charnel Mountains for two days, and at that only along the edges, yet they could feel the wrongness. Something stirred in the Charnel Mountains. An evil long dormant was awakening, and woe to any who stood in its way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Legacies
Rya was cleaning the dishes when Rynlin walked in with some firewood, placing it by the wood chest. He smelled the frost in the air. It was only early fall, yet it felt much colder. Although winter had come early before, this time it felt different. This fall had the feel of another he had experienced many, many years before. You would think that after so long a time, the mind would forget such things. But not that autumn. Better to remember. It had started at much the same time then too, the early chill in the air, summer only a few weeks past. It had quickly grown worse during the next few years, with a cold settling over the land that was unforgettable and terrifying. For the cold brought more than frost and ice and snow. An evil followed in the cold’s footsteps, an evil—
Rynlin cleared his head of the dark thoughts, settling into his chair by the fire. It was too soon to know if he was right. But a small part of him worried, and he knew that Rya worried too.
“What’s troubling you, my love?”
“Nothing,” she replied in a quiet voice, wiping her wet hands on her apron and sitting down in a chair across from her husband. She was not very good at hiding things from him, not after being married to him for so long.
“Rya,” Rynlin chided. She waited a few minutes before answering, but Rynlin knew that she would.
“I’m worried about Thomas.” Thomas had nearly fallen asleep in his chair during dinner, his mind and body tired from the day’s activities. And this was just the beginning. He had dragged himself up to bed soon afterward, his sword hanging in its scabbard from a bedpost.
“How so?”
“He’s a boy, Ryn, but you’re pushing him hard.”
“He’s not a boy, Rya,” countered Rynlin, leaning forward in his chair, his sinewy forearms resting on his knees. “He’s never been a boy. Ever since he joined us here, he’s been a man. He couldn’t be anything else after growing up in the Crag the way he did, and then having to escape from it.”
“Maybe so, Ryn. But in many ways he’s still a boy,” said Rya, her voice firm, unwilling to concede the point. “You pushed him hard today.”
Rynlin flopped back in his chair, arms dangling over the rests. A sigh of resignation escaped from his lips. He should have expected this.
“Of course I pushed him hard, and I’m going to push him even harder tomorrow, and the next day, and the next …” Rya shushed him. Rynlin’s voice was getting louder with each word, and she didn’t want him to wake Thomas.
“But you don’t have to push him so hard. Thomas is not Marya. You don’t have to take your anger out on him. He’s not going to run off and marry a Highlander like she did.”
“Take my anger out on him? Take my anger out on him?” His voice rose in irritation. When Rynlin had been instructing Thomas during the day, he had never been angry. He had been proud. But now he was angry. “I did no such thing. There’s no reason to bring Marya into this. My anger is long gone from that, and it left me completely when I saw Thomas for the first time. Fine, I didn’t handle it well when she left. I’ve come to terms with it now. I know I made a mistake. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”
They were quiet for a few moments, both letting their emotions drop from a boil to a simmer.
“I’m sorry,” said Rya. “That was uncalled for.” Rynlin still glared at her. She knew she was only taking her anger out on him as a way to deal with the uneasy feeling she was having now, the feeling that had stayed with her for a few days.
“You felt it, too,” said Rynlin. “You felt it in the wind this evening, like before, when darkness marched from the north.” The anger drained away, replaced by calm and purpose.
“Yes,” said Rya. “I felt it. I think I’ve been sensing it for the last few days; this evening for sure. It’s starting all over again.”
“Yes, but this time we might be able to end it once and for all,” said Rynlin, holding his wife’s eyes with his own.
“You think Thomas—”
“Yes, I do. Ever since he got here I’ve been reading, and rereading, the prophecies. I always come back to that one passage.” Rynlin sat up in his chair and held out his hands before him. “I know, Rya. I know,” he said, cutting off her protests before she could voice them. “I know every line of the
prophecies has more than one meaning, and that there are always two or more courses of action whenever the prophecies come to a time for decision. As murky and obscure as the prophecies may be, I think it all fits.”
“He has much to worry about already, Rynlin. He’s Lord of the Highlands, in name anyway. If what you say is true, this new legacy may be more of a curse than a blessing.”
“That’s why I’m pushing him, Rya. That’s why I have to push him. I hope we’re both wrong. I hope we’re just two old codgers afraid of the wind. But—”
“But you don’t think we are.”
“No, I don’t. I think we’re right. And I’m sure some of our friends, and enemies, are coming to the same conclusion. That’s why I pushed Thomas so hard today and will push even harder tomorrow. I hope we’re wrong. I really do. But we can’t afford to take that chance. That’s why he has to be ready. He has much to do in his life, and he needs to be prepared. I won’t let my grandson, my only grandson, die. That’s why I think it’s time he learned about some of the things we’ve been keeping from him.”
“I know,” said Rya. “I agree with you.” Rya had listened to her husband intently, seeing the same fire in his eyes that had attracted her to him. He had always believed in what he was doing with a passion, but when Marya ran away, that fire had died down, as if he had lost some of his purpose in life. Everyone had a purpose in life, some more than others, even if they didn’t realize it. For some that purpose meant working as a blacksmith or jeweler or cobbler. For others it meant something else. She and Rynlin, along with a few select others, had perhaps the most important purpose of any in the Kingdoms. She stared deeply into her husband’s piercing green eyes. The fire had returned. It was raging within him, looking for a way to escape its bonds.
Rising from her chair, she sat down on Rynlin’s lap, slipping her arm around her husband’s neck and laying her head on his chest. She felt Rynlin’s arms, the strength still there after all those years, hug her to him. They stayed like that well into the night. A time of change was coming. For better or worse, they didn’t know. In their hearts, even if they didn’t want to believe it, they knew their grandson was in the center of it all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Dark and Light
The next day was very much like the last for Thomas, though this time Rya instructed him in the Talent instead of Rynlin. He learned that she had a great ability with the weather. He marveled at the storm clouds she created on what was a sunny day, and the rain that fell where she directed. Again, it was a struggle in the beginning, but by the end of the lesson he had achieved a better understanding of what he was doing. He had even succeeded in controlling his own storm cloud, though it was much smaller than Rya’s. That afternoon, Rynlin again brought him down to the glade, which he now called the Ring, for another training session. This time, he found himself facing a different spirit, a young fellow named Ari. He soon found that his other name, the one used most often in the history books, was The Archer. Thomas quickly learned why.
The Archer laughed at first upon seeing his new pupil, throwing a large bow into his hands. Ari himself stood almost seven feet tall, with a bow slightly larger. His opinion changed rapidly. Thomas’ skill with the bow was obvious from the start, so much so that the bow appeared to be a normal extension of his arm. Nevertheless, Thomas found that he still had much to learn from Ari, and that like fighting with Antonin, the physical abilities of a warrior played only a small part. Mental strength and determination were required as well.
After two hours of shooting the bow, he spent the rest of the afternoon practicing his concentration with the Archer. At the end of the session Ari had him cut down a sapling growing not far from the Ring so Thomas could make a new bow. Then, much to his surprise, and displeasure, when he got back to the house in the late afternoon, his other lessons and chores still waited for him. Thomas quickly realized that his life was becoming much more difficult, and there was nothing he could do about it.
That evening Thomas rushed through his meal, using the last of his bread to capture the rich gravy of that night’s stew. He still had some firewood to chop, and he couldn’t get to work on his bow until he had finished. Ari had shown him the first steps in shaping a bow from a length of wood, and he wanted to get at it right away. He was halfway out of his chair when he discovered that other plans had been made for him.
“Don’t worry about the firewood, Thomas,” said Rya. “I think we’ve got plenty for tonight.”
Thomas stopped in his tracks, one leg toward the door, the other still under the table. They had never let him escape his chores before, even when he was sick. In fact, even if he was so ill he could barely stand up, they’d still send him out for pieces of wood in a driving rainstorm, telling him, “It builds character.” Sitting back down, he looked warily at Rynlin, then Rya.
“Why not?” he asked suspiciously. He didn’t like surprises. They usually included unpleasant consequences.
“Don’t worry, Thomas,” said Rya. “We just wanted to talk to you about something that we both think you should know. You’re growing up very quickly, faster than we realized in fact.” Thomas had absolutely no idea where this conversation was going. He liked that even less.
Rynlin leaned forward, crossing his arms and resting them on the table.
“You look like a cornered rabbit, Thomas. Relax. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Thomas,” cut in Rya, “we were wondering. You’ve picked up the skills we’ve shown you regarding the Talent very quickly. How do you do it?” She and Rynlin had discussed this earlier in the day. They wanted to approach their real topic for the evening carefully, and they thought this would be the perfect avenue.
“How do I use the Talent?”
“Yes.”
“I imagine the same way the both of you do.”
“Well, actually,” broke in Rynlin, “everyone does it a little differently.” They both looked at him with the sharp eyes of two raptors. He felt like a cornered deer.
“I don’t know,” he said, again having a hard time explaining something that seemed so much a part of him. Trying to describe it exactly was impossible, so he thought of an analogy instead. “I guess you could say it’s like opening a door that was blocked from the outside. At first, when I was very young, I’d push on the door as hard as I could, struggling to force it open. But I couldn’t. Then, with time, I was able to nudge it just a little, then a little more. Now, with the lessons that you and Rya have given me, I’ve been able to push it open even farther. It’s still a struggle, but it’s much easier than before. “I don’t know exactly why that is. I assume it’s because I’m learning how to use the Talent. I do know one thing. The more I open the door, the closer I feel to nature.” Thomas crinkled his nose for a moment. That wasn’t quite right.
“I feel as if I’m more a part of nature, as if I belong there. I can’t really describe it. It just feels right. I feel more alive, and more at peace too. It’s just—”
“Thomas, you don’t have to explain anymore,” said Rya. “I think Rynlin and I understand quite well.”
Thomas relaxed visibly, slouching back in his chair, shoulders bent. This one time, Rya let him get away with it. She always told him that standing and sitting up straight added inches to his frame. He’d need that in the future. He wasn’t very tall and knew that wasn’t going to change.
“You see,” continued Rya, “Rynlin and I do much the same thing when we use the Talent. The difference, though, is that we know our limits. We can open the door only so far. But you, Thomas, you’re different. You don’t know it yet, but we do. One day you’ll be able to open the door all the way.”
Thomas stiffened and moved his eyes over to Rya, and then Rynlin.
“Yes, Thomas,” said Rynlin, seeing the recognition. “You are stronger than us, or rather will be. You simply haven’t learned as much as we have. But with time—” Rynlin trailed off, shrugging his shoulders and himself leaning back in
his chair.
“But you and Rya are two of the strongest in the Talent,” he protested. “Two of the strongest in all the Kingdoms.”
“Yes, we are,” said Rynlin. “And some day you will be stronger than us.”
Before Thomas could really sink his teeth into that admission, Rya jumped in. Now was the time. She hoped it wouldn’t be too much of a shock.
“Thomas, there are a few who are as strong as us in the Talent, or if they don’t have the Talent, have achieved a closeness to nature that cannot be matched by others. They form a special group, and Rynlin and I are part of this group.”
“The Sylvana,” he whispered, his mind working furiously.
“Yes, the Sylvana,” confirmed Rynlin.
“Thomas,” said Rya, drawing his eyes. She wanted to make sure that he understood what she was going to say next. “As I said, only a few are members of the Sylvana, because of that closeness to nature. You have that closeness to nature, a closeness greater than any we know.”
Thomas couldn’t tear his eyes away from Rya. It felt as if the pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together in the back of his mind. His skill with the Talent. His friendship with Beluil. The feeling of comfort he enjoyed while in the forest. Still, it was almost too much for him to comprehend.
“Then you’re saying I could be a member of the Sylvana, too.”
“Yes, Thomas, you could,” said Rynlin, leaning forward. “In time, if you so choose, and you overcome the challenges, then you may join us.” Reaching into his shirt, Rynlin pulled out his necklace, the silver amulet catching the light of the fire. Rya pulled out hers as well. “You see, this necklace is more than just a remembrance of the Keldragan family. It is also given to each member of the Sylvana. You wear your mother’s now, more a keepsake than anything else, but you know the power it contains.”
Thomas’ hand automatically went to his chest, feeling the gritty texture of the unicorn’s horn beneath his shirt. He nodded. The amulet had brought him to safety while escaping the Crag.