Bride of the Stone: Circle of Nine Trilogy 2

by Josephine Pennicott

  *

  Khartyn noticed Claw blink back tears, and she nodded her head slowly, understanding his pain. Bwani was also clothed in red. His velvet suit had been lovingly embroidered in crystal beads by the women of Faia, and his long fair hair was a comely contrast to his outfit. After a short silence, Gwyndion and Samma keened briefly in the Webx greeting. Holding each other’s hands, and smiling around at everyone, Bwani and Maya stepped into the circle of rose petals and ivy, where Khartyn stood waiting. When they were both inside, the circle closed instantly, and the petals rose to chest level. Ivy vines began to rise from the ground, encircling them. The congregation waited outside the circle. In the fields the distant whoops of the women could be heard as they continued to jump the crops.

  ‘We who have gathered here today have conjured this circle so that it may be a sacred representation of love between the realm of the everyday and eternal planes.’ Khartyn then began to call in the quarters, asking them for their blessing on the rite. When the elemental energies had manifested and hung shimmering in the air before them, she held her arms over her head and chanted:

  ‘Welcome, Lady and Lord of all. Welcome, Aphrodite, the Tomb Goddess, the Man Slayer. I respectfully request your presence to bless this Handfasting, and to assist me in my rite.’

  There came the faint aroma of roses and jasmine, and the congregation breathed in the perfumed blessing. Khartyn nodded, well pleased; she had not expected the blessing of the Love Goddess, not after the Bird Wizards’ attempted abduction. She watched carefully, as Bwani and Maya lit with a taper the charmed Handfasting candle.

  ‘May you continue to re-light this candle throughout the Turn of the Wheel and a day, and reflect on the sacred meaning of your union,’ Khartyn said. She picked up a white cord from the altar and bound the couple’s hands together.

  ‘I, Khartyn, Crone of Faia, tie this knot, binding this couple. You are now joined in perfect white peace, love and timelessness. May the elementals bless this union. May all beings of all the known worlds bless this union.’

  Bwani pulled Maya to him and kissed her. As everybody applauded, a bolt of lightning flashed in the sky and an enormous moan came from the earth, as the elementals responded to the events in the circle. A murmur rumbled through the congregation. On a nearby hillock stood the Stag Man, silhouetted against the sky, as another lightning bolt illuminated his beauty. Maya had to fight to keep her tears back.

  ‘Doubly blessed will this union be that has been blessed thus,’ Khartyn said. Maya longed for her father to come closer to them, but she sensed he would keep his distance. She thought she had never known such perfect happiness in her entire life. Bwani was standing next to her with love in his eyes. He held the sun and the moon in his face. All the people she had come to cherish were standing around the circle, and her eyes went from one face to another: Rosedark, Mary, Ano, Claw. A faint yearning came to her when she saw the crushed look in his eyes, although he attempted a crooked, warm smile when he caught her glance. Dear Claw, how much he cares for me, and I for him. If only it be possible to be with two men in this time. She fought to suppress the thought, the yearning, but it rose within her. What sort of woman am I? To think such a thought at my own Handfasting while I am still within the circle? It was only when Bwani looked at her with his eyes blazing with love that she could relax. I am not interested in Claw, she told herself. It is Bwani who holds my heart and my breath.

  ‘I now declare you handfasted,’ Khartyn said simply, unbinding the cord from their wrists and placing it carefully into a velvet pouch for them to take away as a magical talisman they could recharge later. A loud cheer went up from around the circle. The women in the field stopped their broomstick jumping and came running over to congratulate the couple. Maya saw with a small wrench of her heart that the Stag Man was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘At least he came,’ Khartyn said, reading her. Maya flushed under her veil, for she saw by the flicker in the Crone’s eyes that she had also read her thoughts about Claw. From large golden platters on the altar, Bwani fed Maya some grapes and also some delicate moon-shaped biscuits, flavoured with ginger and Neroli, that Mary had prepared with her own hands. They sipped a delicious spiced mead from golden goblets, a secret recipe of the Crones. Next they sprinkled biscuits onto the ground, and poured wine onto the earth in libation.

  Then Khartyn began the process of thanking and banishing the elements. When she had finished, the circle parted and the crowd, which had grown considerably, cheered loudly. The large trays of moon biscuits and grapes were passed around the guests, and offerings were laid at the sacred chosen tree, while Crones handed out goblets of mead. As people thronged forward to congratulate the newly Handfasted couple, Khartyn held up a warning hand.

  ‘Not until the Great Rite is enacted,’ she said. There were knowing nudges from among the Wizards and the Faiaites, with the exception of Claw, who moved closer to Rosedark. Bwani swept his new bride up into his arms and winked at the crowd.

  ‘Save some sustenance for us!’ he joked, among a chorus of bawdy remarks.

  The couple found their way to the love nest that had been prepared for them by the large red and pink bows tied around the trunks of nearby trees. In a flattened area among ferns and bracken, a clearing was filled with rose petals and sprinkled with orris powder. The surrounding trees were all garlanded with ribbons. Maya cried out in delight at the sight, as Bwani placed her on the ground. Thousands of glitter birds illuminated the area in a magical glow, and the low hooting of an owl could be heard.

  Maya thought that she had never seen a more magical sight. She felt deeply grateful to her friends, who must have been up half the night preparing this. They would be dancing the maypole by now, she thought. Just for the smallest breath, she thought of Claw, and hoped he was not dancing with Rosedark.

  Bwani drew back her veil. His eyes were soft and filled with wonder as he gazed upon her.

  ‘I’m not very good with words of romance, Maya,’ he said. ‘Unlike Claw, whose words are liquid honey! I’m a man of action, not words. But I do love you. I love you so much that it almost frightens me!’ His voice broke, and he dipped his head, momentarily ashamed at displaying his feelings. Maya felt for him and she pulled him to her, staring up into his eyes.

  ‘And I love you, Bwani,’ she said. ‘I loved you when you were a mass of stone, for Goddess’s sake! I loved you when I could not even see the man that lived and breathed within your form!’

  They kissed, slowly at first, their lips barely touching, blowing breath between their parted lips. The kiss gradually deepened, and Maya could begin to feel her body responding, a small fire flickering between her legs. She could feel his erection through his trousers and she knew that he was ready for her, too.

  ‘Lie down, Maya,’ he said. She nodded eagerly, her hands pulling at the laces that bound her breasts, eager to be naked under his hands. They lay down together in the nest of love. Maya’s frantic hands had finally managed to unlace herself, and Bwani ran his mouth over her nipples which were ripe, bursting for his touch. Suddenly Bwani collapsed on top of her with a little grunt.

  ‘Bwani!’ Maya pushed at him. There was no response. ‘Bwani?’

  There was the sound of running feet, and something slithery, an oddly disturbing sound. Then Maya felt an excruciating pain in her head, but just before the pain fully registered, she had time to see what was there. Something that was impossible stood before her, something that should never have been there. There was something red and wet all over her beautiful red bridal dress, and she realised dully what it was. Blood. The impossible thing that stood in front of her laughed. Maya collapsed into darkness.

  *

  The congregation were still dancing the maypole merrily when the stranger interrupted, bursting upon them and scattering them screaming. Gwyndion dropped Samma’s hand and stepped forward, his eyes bulging in disbelief at the staggering, bloodied figure before him.

  ‘I hear you!’ the stranger cried. �
�I hear you, but by Goddess, I can’t see!’ There was a shocked silence, and then Mary stepped forward, facing him, her Crones flanking her.

  ‘I am Mary, High Priestess of Faia,’ she said urgently. ‘What has happened to you? Who are you? Are you in need of a Healer?’

  ‘They’ve blinded me!’ the figure screamed. ‘There’s a Lightcaster, and others! Creatures of the sea, by the smell of them. Faeries, Wezom, and the dark Azephim Queen. They tortured me, for their own pleasure, and they’ve killed a Wizard in the wood and taken his mate! I was with them! I heard everything!’

  Edwen began shouting at the Circle of Nine. ‘Quickly! To the love nest! Find them, and bring them to me!’

  ‘No!’ Mary said. She was shaking as she faced the stranger. She lifted his face gently up to the light, and there was a collective gasp when the crowd saw the damage done to his eyes.

  ‘Khartyn!’ she said. ‘Quickly, this man’s sight must be restored. Oh, sweet Goddess, how could they do such a thing?!’

  Khartyn stepped forward to look, and she turned and nodded to the Crones. Gwyndion came out from the tree where he had planted himself. His long hair blew in the wind.

  ‘Simeon?’ he said hesitantly. The stranger let out a small cry, turning to where the noise had come from.

  ‘Is the Webx here?’ he said hesitantly. ‘Oh Goddess, he killed Kaliegraves as well. They blinded the Crone, and tortured her. Help me, Gwyndion! I’m blind! My name is Simeon, of no fixed last four names, from New Baffin. My name is Simeon, of no fixed last four names from New Baffin . . .’ He continued to repeat his name while Rosedark held onto Claw’s arm, and the congregation stood frozen in shock.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mary,’ Edwen said. ‘But I have to go after them in the woods.’ Before she had given her leave, he was running in the direction Maya and Bwani had last walked. The Bird Wizards followed him closely. Khartyn glanced around wildly. Danger was around them — she could smell it, lurking, watching from every bush and tree with jungle eyes. She began sending healing energy into the stranger’s eyes, feeling the sick sensation in her gut that often indicated her efforts would prove fruitless. The young hermaphrodite’s eyes had been badly burned away, and Khartyn cursed the energies that had been responsible for this. Simeon was moaning, and Khartyn looked over at the Crones, shaking her head in despair. He would be lucky not to die of shock before the moon rose tonight. Furtively, she kept glancing around, continuing to channel healing energy into the herm. Rosedark stood next to her, helping her to ground while she worked, and Gwyndion and Samma were also working together, sending massive bolts of Webx healing energy.

  As they worked, Khartyn could faintly smell something putrid wafting to her on the air. Whatever was responsible for this atrocity was near. It was waiting malevolently, enjoying the shocked reactions of the people it was now toying with. Khartyn turned, pursuing the energy flow, and faced the dark woods, drawing a protective circle of light around them.

  ‘Come out, you cowardly beast!’ she yelled, almost out of her mind with anger. ‘Show yourself, instead of lurking in the shadows! In the name of the Dreamers and the Goddess!’

  A rustle came from the woods, a low chuckle. From overhead there came the sound of beating wings. Then the sky turned black.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  When it is freshly hatched, the Hatchling is human-shaped, with white wings folded tightly around its body. It has large sores over its throat and genital area, which drop off after eleven moon-ups. The Hatchling is covered in black and grey scales, most of which will moult. The Hatchling’s eyes open as soon as the egg is cracked. It has limited speech, but possesses the ability to kill with its spinnerets. A Ghormho Hatchling is welcomed by the Amew, the Glazrmhom less so.

  — Extract from the Azephim Book of the Damned

  ‘Push, damn you!’ screamed Rashka, sweat dripping from her. The temperature was unbearably high in the private room where Fenn had been carried after her labour began in the Hatching Grounds. ‘Push, you stinking Faery, before it kills you!’

  Fenn screamed again. The red-hot tremors of pain threatened to split her body in two. Members of the Amew surrounded her, applying compresses to her face and abdomen. They shook their heads at each other, dreading Seleza’s reaction to the bad news.

  ‘She’s not going to make it,’ they informed Seleza, who sat, a silent watching figure at the end of the table. She peered into Fenn’s vagina, hoping to see a sign of the egg.

  ‘Let me cut her belly open!’ Rashka said. Her hands reached for the dagger around her waist. ‘We can retrieve the egg that way.’

  ‘No,’ Seleza said. ‘I gave Fenn my word I would do everything in my power to help her to live. Azephim honour their word.’

  ‘Let me die,’ Fenn pleaded. ‘Please, I can’t bear the pain. Give me mercy, Dark Mother. Let me die.’

  ‘See?’ Rashka screamed. ‘She’s been pleading for death half the night, and you hold it back from her!’

  ‘The egg has to be hatched through the vagina,’ an Amew council member intervened. ‘All egg seeds cut from the belly in the past have never survived. They have had to be devoured instantly because of deformities.’

  ‘If it’s Ishran’s seed, there’s sure to be deformities! Let me cut!’ screeched Rashka. She had been constantly frustrated in her efforts to kill Fenn and the egg during its incubation over the last half Turn of the Wheel. Seleza, guessing Rashka’s intentions, had put Fenn under guard at all times. Fenn screamed again, and the Amew council glanced at Seleza and shook their heads. Their expressions said it all.

  ‘Sati! Sati! Jurma!’ Fenn continued to moan, calling for the only mother she knew.

  Seleza peered again into the Faery’s vagina, her wings flapping wildly now, revealing her agitation. The cervix was wide open, hut there was no sign of the egg.

  ‘In the name of Alecom and all that is holy, I cannot lose this egg! Who in all the known worlds is the best midwife? Who?’ she screamed at the Amew, spittle dripping from her fangs.

  ‘We are, of course,’ said one of the braver Amew. ‘You won’t find better than us, but we can’t do the impossible! For Alecom’s sake, he should never have mated with a Faery!’

  Seleza growled, and shot a light ray from her wingtip. A flash of green light exploded in the room and the Amew who had spoken fell, killed instantly. His body rose above them in the air, mouth still open in terminated protest, until it disintegrated slowly, revealing the bones and muscles beneath the skin. Others retreated from the table where Fenn lay, numb with shock, as the dead Amew’s body disintegrated into the Web, and was instantly sucked into the pulsating light rays that surrounded the Kondoell.

  Such a sight had never been witnessed in the Hatching Grounds, where life and death were considered sacred. The only deaths that ever occurred there were when the Amew ate the eggs after the Glazrmhom had been hatched, despite Seleza’s attempts to ban the custom.

  ‘There will be no more talk of it being impossible!’ she screamed. ‘You Amew are all useless! After this day, I will appoint a new council unless this egg is hatched. Who can help? Who?’

  Rashka yawned. ‘Calm down, Hosthatch. The Amew are right, it is a lost cause. Let the Faery die. You are only prolonging her agony.’

  ‘Silence!’ Seleza screamed. ‘Give me a name!’

  ‘Khartyn,’ one Amew member offered, trembling as he spoke. ‘The Crone from Faia. She is renowned as a midwife throughout the known worlds.’

  Rashka laughed. ‘Unbelievable! First you bring a Faery into the Web, contaminating it, sowing massive discontent among the angels. Now you propose to bring a Crone! You must be senile to even contemplate it! Seleza, perhaps you are ready for banishment to the Outerezt, after all?’

  Seleza held her wings out. The Amew ducked, but a freezing dart flew into Rashka and froze her rigid, mouth still open, fangs wide.

  ‘I can’t think with all her talking,’ Seleza said. ‘Amew, fly as quickly as you can. Take the entire council. Bring back th
e Crone, and Sati, too. The Faery is calling for her. It’s the least I can do.’

  ‘She’s going to die,’ the head of the Amew said, face downcast. ‘Your request is a waste of the Amew’s time. There are thirty other hatchings that require our attendance.’

  ‘Help me!’ Fenn begged. ‘Help me die. I want to die.’

  ‘Go!’ Seleza screamed at the council.

  They went.

  On the ghostly streets of the Web-Kondoell, the Azephim waited in silent expectation. They watched with upturned heads as the mass of the Amew rose into the air, soaring between the death rays to slip through the eye of the Web. Fenn’s screams could be heard echoing in every corner of Kondoell. The general mood of the Azephim throng was one of disbelief and frustration. Why did Seleza not just kill the Faery? It was impossible that a stained one from her race would be able to hatch, and her anguish was destroying the peace that was so essential for the others in the Hatching Ground.

  Behind the deadly swish of the aerial rays, the once familiar sound of the Eom could be heard breathing. The Azephim listened to it intently, seeking guidance on what to do next. There was much confusion among them. The younger ones wanted to banish Seleza to the Outerezt, believing she was weakening them by bringing a contaminated Faery into Kondoell. The elders acknowledged her achievement of returning the Eom to the Web, thereby ensuring the Azephim would regain the vitality that they had lost.

  A soft white rain fell upon the angels as they stood there, but none of them moved, focused entirely on the communication the Eom was offering them. The death rays began to rotate faster in the pearly grey sky, bathing them in a lightshow of spectacular beauty. Rashka shouted in the distance and, sensing her anger, the younger ones began to snarl in accord. They stood, shoulder to shoulder, wing to wing, waiting for a cue to act. White doves released from the windows of the bone temples flew into the death rays, and their feathers and bones, small and perfect, rained down upon the angels. The hard, infertile earth began to moan.