The Souls of the Ocean (Book Two in The Tamarack Series)

by Ross Turner

  “Yes I did.” Rosynn admitted with a sigh. “I only wish I could have told you, and Cole, sooner.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “How could I?” She posed sorrowfully. Isabel studied the strange woman’s saddened features with confusion, and her prophetic words did little to help. “I knew of Cole’s power. But I also knew that the fulfilment he desires would never have been satisfied by knowledge alone. Now he has the knowledge, and indeed the power itself, but can you tell me that your son is fulfilled Isabel?”

  The answer was painfully obvious. Isabel thought of her quiet, even withdrawn son, and the vast number of thoughts and emotions he must have been keeping locked up inside. Sorrow, and even guilt coursed through her, and she looked all around helplessly, as if the answer lay strewn across the roses.

  What other haunting emotions had her only son been keeping from her? What other thoughts and feelings did he feel so unable to share with her? The knot in her stomach tightened with a painful wrench.

  “Don’t be so troubled Isabel.” Rosynn assured her. “Rose knows of young Cole’s strife also, and she is there for him, even as we now speak. She will always be there for him.”

  “Rose…” Isabel suddenly said to herself, snapping her gaze back to Rosynn. Surrounded by her strangely unseasonal flowers, Rosynn’s hand absently working with the one closest to her in a gentle, caring manner, the same manner in which Cole absently petted Rose. “He named her after you.” She whispered quietly. Rosynn smiled lightly before replying cryptically.

  “I can only hope that Rose is a good friend to him, and that she continues to be for many more years to come.” She sighed wearily then. “Hopefully a better friend than I have been - he will need her probably more even than I can envisage in the days still to unfold.”

  “What do you mean?” Isabel asked, feeling as if things were once again getting out of hand. “How do you know all this?”

  “I’m not sure.” Rosynn admitted. “There’s an awful lot going on that I don’t understand.”

  “But it sounds like there’s an awful lot that you do understand?” Isabel suggested pointedly. Rosynn smiled almost ruefully.

  “I know that Cole seeks fulfilment, and will do whatever is required of him to achieve it. He does not feel whole, and indeed, I believe, that is because there is something missing, something that is still yet to happen.”

  “Ok.” Isabel responded carefully, allowing Rosynn time to continue.

  “I also know that Rose is, and will continue to be, vitally instrumental to Cole’s journey, though I do not know where that journey will take him.”

  “I see.” Isabel said, sensing that Rosynn, similarly to herself, would not be allowed to know more than was necessary to complete her particular tasks. And it seemed, by the way she was revealing all of this to her now, that her tasks were almost complete. Hopefully that meant that the knowledge Rosynn was giving her would not be withheld in any way.

  Rosynn sighed sadly and Isabel’s expression shifted to a questioning one.

  “I will miss Cole’s visits.” She said by way of explanation. “I do hope you didn’t disapprove of the time he spent in my company. I have grown to know young Cole very well over the past years.” Isabel pondered her answer carefully for a moment.

  “I didn’t disapprove.” She said finally. “Though, I don’t think I would have been allowed to anyway.” Rosynn nodded understandingly.

  “As is often the way.” She replied in a subdued, even saddened voice.

  A chill wind picked up and Isabel shivered with the sudden cold. Rosynn raised her head to the sky and her hands fell to the ground at her sides, leaving her rose bushes looking decidedly lonesome.

  “It is time for you to depart.” She said. Isabel nodded in reply, knowing clearly by now that somehow Rosynn was registering their conversation by more than hearing alone. She turned to leave, but after a few steps she stopped and turned back to the young woman, who seemed to be looking after her strangely.

  “I wish you and your family all the best.” Rosynn offered by way of farewell, but Isabel still had one final question.

  “Did you always know? Even before Cole started coming to see you? Even before he was born?” She asked.

  Rosynn just smiled and shook her head.

  “No. It wasn’t until I saw Cole for the first time that I had any idea.” She bit her lip for a second before continuing. “I don’t think it was ever my place to know.” She admitted. “And the first time I saw him, I only knew he was destined for great things. The rest came later.”

  “Well, let’s hope that these great things don’t hurt him, or Tamarack - he’s only a boy.” Isabel said firmly, but Rosynn sighed and shook her head, looking directly as Isabel with her strange, misty eyes.

  “No, sweet Isabella.” She said in a level and unemotional voice. “There is much more to our young Colvan than you or Zanriath realise. Be careful not to underestimate him.” Her words sounded like a warning, and Isabel had no response for the strange woman.

  Rosynn stood gracefully and made her way purposefully to her thick, wooden front door, seemingly without issue. With her back to Isabel, she opened it, the door creaked loudly in its aged frame, and she paused before going inside, turning her head back to look at Isabel once more.

  “Do not misjudge the strength Cole’s bond with Rose gives him.” The strange voice spoke again through the lovely young woman’s lips. “It is upon that bond which the fate of the universe rests.”

  19

  As he saw his parents approaching, Cole climbed to his feet and clambered up onto Rose’s back. She shook herself lightly and stooped to allow him to do so. They both watched as Isabel and Zanriath drew closer, leaving distant Kalaris behind amidst the fading light of the day and in the immense shadow of the looming mountains.

  By now it was not only the tips of the Kalaren Peaks that were covered with snow, but indeed the majority of the range. The driving winds tearing between the towering rocks reached tremendous speeds and carved great scours through the snow and very stone itself, leaving ridges deep and permanently set, ingrained only further and further as they years passed by relentlessly.

  “Ready to go?” Zanriath asked Cole as they reached their son and brought their mounts to a halt beside the enormous Rose, almost certainly even bigger again now. She sniffed at the unfamiliar horses. Zanriath had indeed picked up fresh ones for the long journey ahead, and they eyed Rose with fascination. Isabel was admittedly a little confused at their calm - it seemed Cole had already solved the issue of the horses’ panic, even unconsciously.

  “Yes, we’re ready.” Cole answered for himself and for his demon.

  “Good.” Zanriath replied, looking across and out to the darkening horizon. “Let’s try to make Still Waters.”

  “We won’t get there before dark.” Isabel warned as she and Cole loaded half of their supplies onto Rose’s powerful back.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Zanriath determined. “Time is too short. We have to move.”

  “Let’s go then.” Cole concluded, and Rose turned automatically, without any physical intervention from him whatsoever. Isabel still found that strange, but as she encouraged her horse into motion to follow, she imagined she would never fully understand the bond between her son and his demon: a conclusion she had eventually drawn for numerous puzzles throughout her life.

  And so, through the encroaching dark they charged, galloping east with the full light of Zanriath’s blue flames to guide them over the uneven swells and rises of the vast common that was the island of Rilako.

  This single, enormous common was not the result of careful planning and conservation, but instead, it had simply never been entirely consumed and cultivated by the people of the island. It was innate, a part of their nature, an inborn trait, that meant they did not feel the need to separate each person’s land from others’.

  And so, it seemed, that everyone could share easily what belonged equally to them all, and it wa
s, in just the same fashion, the responsibility of each and every one of them to protect it. Such a system is rarely ever seen, and falls victim more often than not to the disgusting hands of human greed.

  Cole and Rose, feeling almost separate from Zanriath and Isabel as they began their journey, ran slightly ahead of them, easily outpacing the horses even at a dead run. They were not too far ahead as to be out of sight, Cole made sure of that, but they were just too far to benefit from the light of Zanriath’s blue flames.

  But it mattered not. Cole’s strange and ever-developing senses scanned the ground ahead and the area all around, giving him, and in turn Rose also, a perfect mental picture of the swells and rises and potholes and mossy baby heads of the mostly gentle terrain.

  Zanriath and Isabel knew not the extent of their son’s bond with his demon, nor indeed the strange ability he was using, but they sensed he did not need the light from the flames by which to see, and so did not ask why he rode just slightly off their trail in the darkness. Cole wondered whether Isabel could sense his probing thoughts scanning the area, but it seemed she was unaware, and he continued to wonder what this ability was, if it was not demonic.

  One thing was for certain though; he was pleased with it, for he was no longer afraid of the dark.

  It was a noisy way for them to travel. At such speeds their packs bounced and clattered and made an annoying rattling that echoed through the darkness, carrying through the night endlessly in every direction. After a while the piercing sounds became nothing more than a monotonous nuisance, though they were impossible to ignore, and they grated Isabel’s senses irritatingly.

  Once or twice Cole and Rose ventured slightly further ahead and away from his parents, as the far off tower edged slowly closer and closer in the darkness. They could not see it of course, for it was too dark to pick it out against the blackened sky, but regardless, they did not need light by which to see it, and they knew exactly where it was.

  Zanriath, as always, was guided by his acute sense of direction. Isabel, of course, trusted him entirely to put them on the right path, and so followed him faithfully through the night. And Cole and Rose, relying not on Cole’s sight, but instead on his awareness, his senses, easily found their way, for as they ran Cole felt as if he were very much a part of the land itself. His mind and his thoughts scanned endlessly over the ground and indeed too all that lay beneath, taking in everything it could possibly tell him.

  He almost felt as if he merged with the very earth itself for those hours of darkened travel, exploring the land upon which they travelled from not just his limiting human form, but from every possible angle, both human and not.

  Eventually, through the dark haze of night, they reached Still Waters.

  Zanriath dismounted. Isabel followed his lead and pulled her cloak more tightly around her neck, her face cold and bitten by the bitter wind and her lips chapped a little. Riding at this time of year was always unpleasant.

  In an uncannily similar fashion to their last visit, Zanriath greeted Pike fondly, and they were soon inside the warm shelter, which looked identical even still. The high candlelit walls were warming, and visitors took only a few of the beds. The tall representation of Ormath stood elegantly at the far end of the building, watching over all within, and the dark at the high windows seemed not to penetrate the haven.

  Cole was greeted with warm tidings by the now considerably aged Pike, but when he laid eyes upon Rose, emerging towards his home from the darkness beyond, he backed away in maddened fear, and began babbling incoherently, showing perhaps some of the signs of senility Kambeth had been referring to.

  Isabel and Zanriath exchanged concerned glances, not knowing what to do, and the three or four other guests at the shelter hid in paralleled fear, eyeing Rose with terror as she stood just outside the doorway.

  Cole however, looked upon the old and fragile man that he vaguely knew, for he had seen him with his vision barely a week ago, and did not see him in the same way that the others did. He looked to Rose, and calmly beckoned her to follow him inside through the open, heavy, wooden doors.

  “Cole…” Isabel began, tears standing heavily in her eyes, partly as she remembered their witnessing of the burning of Kalaris, and partly as she realised that Rose would be excluded from the sanctuary. “Demons can’t enter here.”

  Cole looked at her sadly, though understandingly, but said nothing. He beckoned to Rose again and she nodded in acknowledgement, something clearly having passed between them.

  Without hesitation, she entered Isabel’s haven and walked immediately to Cole’s outstretched hand. Pike stared in disbelief at the sight, his lifelong security having just been shattered in an instant. His babbling ceased and he sank to his knees, his body seeming to crumble under his weight.

  It was Cole who eventually broke the dangerous silence, turning his gaze upon Pike with a look of fierce determination.

  “His body is not fragile, no more so than any of the rest of us…” Cole explained in a voice just loud enough for all of the other guests to hear. Somehow he was seeing to the very heart of Pike’s problem, and resolved to free the poor man of his torment. “It is his mind.”

  Isabel and Zanriath looked on with confusion as their son approached the old man. Pike’s head bobbed up and down slightly and he moaned incoherently under his breath.

  Cole touched Pike’s forehead with both the hand that was not resting upon Rose’s neck, and with his extending thoughts, and proceeded to search the extent of what the old man Pike could show him. He immediately found the source of the problem, and though it was a distant memory, faded and forgotten, the emotion still remained - the fear. It gripped the old man in clutches so tight that it threatened never to release him.

  Almost without thinking, Cole extended his awareness towards that fear, a dark, blurred image stood towering in an open doorway, and it recoiled from his touch. Unsatisfied, he continued, barraging the image in Pike’s tainted memory relentlessly.

  After several more minutes, the fear had weakened to breaking point, and Cole prepared for his final move.

  The distorted image had eventually cleared, and Cole loosened it from Pike’s frightened and tormented grasp. He could now clearly see the monster that had come so close to Pike’s haven, towering in the great doorway, arrows and knives protruding from its chest, blood staining the floor.

  It was no wonder Pike’s nerves had been rattled as Rose and Thorn had entered the world, let alone when Rose had entered his home.

  Cole trapped Pike’s fear within a single thought then, as tightly as he could manage. He was aware even as he did so that what he was doing was very dangerous; though he did not know how he possessed any of the knowledge he was making use of.

  Once it was trapped, Cole focused his will and, quite simply, destroyed the image. He did not change or alter it, harm or kill it - he simply unmade it. He did so in a fashion that, beforehand, he had not known even existed.

  But that did not matter. He only did what needed to be done.

  The intense energy of his efforts rippled through Cole and tore at him in a manner that he recognised. It was the feeling of losing control, power bursting from his seams. But then it travelled from his hand, still resting upon Rose’s strong neck, and joined with her. By sharing the brutal brunt of its force, it eventually dissipated between them, and they relaxed their will.

  Isabel held her breath almost the entire time, knowing that something vital was happening, but having absolutely no idea what it was. Finally, Cole and Rose opened their eyes, Pike stood up from his crouched pose, and Isabel heaved a huge sigh of relief, releasing the pressure from her burning lungs.

  “Cole…” The old man began, not knowing what to say.

  She did not know how, but Isabel was certain that Pike looked much, much younger than he had done only a few minutes ago, a great burden having been lifted from his shoulders, and apparently also from his mind.

  “Rose.” Pike said then, more certainly, and see
mingly by way of an apology, though the contented look in Rose’s eyes told him that none was needed.

  He walked directly to her, as she always did to Cole, and without hesitation reached his outstretched hand up to her enormous head and scratched her precisely behind her ears. She wriggled with delight and was soon sprawled on the floor enjoying the attention with which she was being provided.

  Cole smiled at the sight and looked to his bewildered parents.

  “What happened?” Isabel asked. But this time it was not Cole who answered.

  “I was very ill.” Pike explained as he continued to pet Rose. “I have been ever since Kalaris was burned. The memory of the demon’s has been plaguing me; it would seem, more seriously so than I realised.” He looked to Cole thankfully. “Young Cole here removed the fear from within me. It would appear your son is most gifted.” He complimented Isabel and Zanriath, both still bewildered. “I shall see to supper.” Pike then announced, suddenly retreating to the kitchen, his steps followed by the gaze of a slightly disappointed Rose, a satisfied Cole, and an astounded Isabel and Zanriath.

  Rose stood, shook herself once more, and returned to her place at Cole’s side, rubbing her enormous head against his chest, almost knocking him over in the process.

  It was not too long before Pike returned with supper and Isabel and Zanriath, though still confused, had decided to let the incident drop for the moment, as Cole seemed reluctant to speak of it. It did at least appear that Pike had returned to his old self however, and so they were simply grateful for that fact, of course not wanting their old friend to be suffering in any way.

  Isabel decided to hold off with Cole’s training for a day or so, as there appeared to be much more going on than she had realised, though, somewhat disappointingly, her perhaps unworldly perception allowed her little more information than that.

  Their night was spent comfortably, as nights usually were at Still Waters, save one that Isabel remembered all too clearly, and they rose an hour or two after sunrise. Having arrived very late the previous night, likely into the early hours of the morning, they were all very tired, but nevertheless, still eager to set off again.