“Then you’re a fool,” she said, cutting him off. “And soon to be a dead one at that. For your destiny and the prophecy are linked absolutely. There’s no denying it, Kane. If the prophecy fails, you fail also.”
“You have to understand, Milord, that what is predicted is only one possible thread of many,” Lea said. “Destinies, yours, your sister’s, everyone’s, are merely paths of likelihood, sort by the gods before the will of men can knot them tightly together. He who will prevail on the face of the world; will be the one who has resolve in sufficient measure to seize the day.”
Fren spoke up adding, “So if the prophecy is to come to pass, then you must commit yourself to the path Maig has destined for you, and do so without reservation.”
“Damn it, how am I not committed? I am about to employ a palace servant to murder my father with poison. I’m going to steal my brother’s birthright. I have agreed to the murder of my sister, the destruction of the Grand Assembly of Realms, and to make war on every people of the continent. And with what we have just discussed, and with the aid of this book of yours, I’m sure it can be achieved.”
“If our greatest peril was to be on the field of battle or in the council halls, then you’d be right.”
Kane frowned, not sure what Fren was driving at, but quite sure all this was part of her twisted little plan.
“Our greatest peril lies in the hands of three young women,” she said, answering his look. “It is they, these Children of Light, and a small group of Kathiusian Druids, who can steal your destiny from you, unless you are prepared to meet them with every ounce of your will and as a master of the talents Maig has bestowed upon you.”
Kane really didn’t want to hear this. “Except my sister is as good as dead, and once you have her blood you will know the identity of the other two and extinguish them as you have the other two bloodlines of the original five.”
“Let me explain something to you, Kane. The only reason our assassin is able to kill your sister is because Danielle doesn’t yet know that she is touched by the first mother. Her talents lie dormant. If they did not, we could not harm her, except with considerable luck. And particularly if she has the blood of the first of the five and is Druids Bane as we suspect. The other two who were killed, died by Larnius’ sword and only after considerable effort and only because he was a master of the arts Maig bestowed upon him.”
“Milord.” Lea hesitated, and glanced at Fren, who nodded that she should continue. Lea’s warm hand pressed into his. “Milord, like you, Larnius was an anointed Hand of the Dark One. You have to understand that all except the Anointed draw their magic from a lower order. For the members of our council, Fren, Keira, Allius, Lord Cameron and the rest, it is conjured from the between places of Spring and Autumn; dusk and dawn. We are what are referred to as the Called. Yet those touched by the gods, by Maig, by the First Mother, even the gods of Helhar and Vellum, they draw their power from the very centres of the universe, where power is less defused. For the anointed of Maig, like you and Larnius and all the Hands in between, that place is darkest night and coldest winter, and even death itself. For your sister and the other two of her kind, their power derives from hottest summer and brightest daylight, and all that is life.”
Kane wasn’t sure why this was relevant. “As that may be, if I possess any extraordinary talents as you call them, I suspect I would know as much.”
To his chagrin, Fren chuckling mockingly, and then said, “Does you sister know that when she has walked the path of enlightenment to its end that she need only touch the Book of Minion and what is indestructible would turn to flames and ashes in her hands? Does she know that the armies of the dead cannot stand before her, and will break and run at her very presence? Does she know that only a magical blade anointed under the winter moon and in the hand of one skilled in the dark arts can kill her? Does she know that she possesses the power of transmutation? Or that she can talk to animals and make them do her bidding. Does she know that the wind, the clouds, the rain, even lightening and thunder will answer to her if she asked it? And there is likely much more that she and her kind possess that our kind has forgotten.”
Kane glared at his aged confidante, and then looked out of the window at the foggy house-lined streets passing by. He fumed that this had been kept from him till now. At the same time it left him deeply troubled and subdued—even shaken. He had always suspected somehow that his sister was different—but this scared him more than he wanted to admit. He could feel Fren watching him, with that sly grin of hers. Yes, they all knew he had no bloody choice. “And these other two Children of Light and these white druids have these powers also?” he asked.
“In the case of the two Children of Light, they share some and have others your sister does not. What we know for sure is that they’re already veiled, protected somehow, and likely by Cargius and his kind,” Fren said. “Which leads us to believe that they could possibly be aware of their talents already. And unlike your sister, they could be walking the road of enlightenment, or worse, have already completed it. If it is so, and you are not prepared, then we won’t stand a chance, whatever the size of our army and the cleverness of our cunning. You also need to understand that we have to capture one of these two alive if we are to help the archbishop in his quest to retrieve the book of Minion: the one with the symbol of aquatus as her nature, and to do that we need the talents in your blood. And even with you prepared, it will not be easy. Unprepared, you risk everything.”
“If they have already been anointed as you fear, what are they waiting for? Why haven’t they struck before now? Why have they not killed me?”
“Because until you are anointed, your soul belongs to the First Mother, just as Larnius’ did before he swore himself to Maig. Naratha and his fellow elders of the white council can not touch you because it is against their faith to kill a child in the care of their Goddess.”
“And to do as you ask, I must endure an anointing?”
“Yes.”
“Why wasn’t I told this?”
“You weren’t ready to hear it.”
“Oh, very convenient.” He struggled with his own angry thoughts for a moment then said, “So, even in possession of these ‘talents’ as you called them, I’m not their equal? Yet you said Larnius killed two with his own sword.”
Even in the darkened interior of the carriage it was clear Fren was worried. And to see her so when Kane had always thought her fearless, was more unnerving still.
“As it is in nature, so too, it is in the mystical world: light has the better of darkness,” Fren said. “Our only advantage is the Book of Minion and the Fountain of Rebirth, Maig’s gifts to Larnius. They enabled him to extinguish two Children of Light and maintain Maig’s sway over the world for eight hundred years, despite the endeavours of the White Ones to see it otherwise. This time, I am sure you will finish what he began.”
“Which is?”
“To be rid of the influence of the gods over the world other than our goddess. All their servants and every memory must be erased from the world. For without hands and minds to do their bidding, the gods lose their power and cease to exist on the earthly plan. But you must be willing to commit yourself absolutely to the realisation of Maig’s will upon the world.”
Despite Fren’s kind tone, Kane laughed harshly at their predicament. “Too bad if Joseph happens to show this book to my sister in the next week. What a shock that would be, as the cursed thing bursts into flames in her hands and turns to ashes.”
“She’s not aware of the powers she possesses, Kane, so there is nothing to fear in that matter. At least not from her.”
“Unless she becomes aware in the next week?” he said, pointedly. Henry had talked about the dream Fren had conjured for Danielle during the evening celebrations and how it had been somehow interrupted by a third party. At the time Kane had thought little of it. Now its significance was clear, as was the reason for the troubled look that had clouded the faces of those in compan
y.
“Danielle is the only one who is convinced there was something to her dream, and while Joseph has his colleagues looking into the matter, she will be long dead before anything comes of it,” Fren assured.
“And this tale master’s diary Lord Cameron spoke of at dinner?” Kane demanded.
“Like I said, there is not enough time for them to discover how important your sister is. Besides, you need to be more concerned about your future.”
Yes, his future—how that scared him now. Finding the courage to ask, he said, “Fine. So what must I do to discover what talents … I possess?” Even now the words felt awkward on his tongue, unnatural, even vile.
“You must be anointed as the next Hand of Maig.”
“When?”
“The moon will be right in two weeks.”
“What does it entail?”
“It is better that you do not know.”
Kane scoffed at that. It was very much the answer he expected. “Well thank you, Fren, for ruining my evening.”
Lea squeezed his hand again, her face quite serious as she looked up at him. “Will you do it, Milord?”
“I guess I have no choice,” he said, bitterly. “And let’s hope I can do more than command the wind and walk in the face of the armies of the dead or my reign and the renewal of your kind are going to be very short lived indeed.”
***
The carriage slowed and wheeled off the street before passing under a brick archway and drawing up in a readying yard at the rear of the plush two-story tenement. A coachman stepped down with a lantern in hand and opened the door. Fren had insisted that they disembarked at the rear of the rented chambers for safety’s sake, and she accepted the light and threw a cautious glance at the darkened windows of the other apartments that shared the yard, before allowing her charge to step out. They crossed the cobbled yard and went up the steps to the back door. A little tap and the slot in the door ground open. Mr. Flamton’s face appeared. No words were necessary as he moved to give them entrance. Fren noticed the young man had his sword drawn, and had been sitting on a chair by the door. She could also feel the magical wards protecting the residence from searching eyes and knew instinctively that there had not been any violation. Furthermore she could feel the presence of the other eight brothers of the coven strategically positioned around the house, all armed and all awake. Then there was the taint of Orson and his party down in the cellar who she sensed were sound asleep and more than a little drunk.
“Mr. Flamton, if you will see Lord Kane and Miss Lea upstairs to the master chamber.”
“Of course, mistress.” The young man bowed as Kane passed by. “Would you have me inform Lord Orson of your arrival, Milord?”
“No. We’ll talk in the morning.” Kane grinned at Lea, whose hand he now had firmly in one of his own. “Though I would like some wine brought up.”
“I would’ve thought you’d had enough this night?” Fren said.
“I mightn’t have long to live, so I intend to make the most of it.”
Fren ignored his barb, bid them goodnight and headed for her own first storey room. There would be a warm fire in the hearth and a comfortable bed waiting for her. Not that she imagined sleep would come easy. Two hundred years of bitter persecution and now the great lies of the Goddians were about to be turned back on them. And then Maig would walk among her children again, and be seen in all her benevolence and glory.
Fren felt the gentle warmth of the Goddess’ favour wash over her as she entered her room. She closed the door and got down on her knees to offer the prayer of the devoted. It was as she uttered the third line; I embrace the truth that is the dark and never shall I turn my hand from the blinding light of the great deceiver, that a flash of light seared through her mind. The agony made her cry out and clutch at her head, and when it subsided, blood dripped from her bulbous nose. She knew what had happened, and even before she had recovered sufficiently to stand, there were hurried footfalls on the stairs. Lea burst into the room, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. All over Arkaelyon and beyond, those gifted with the sight, would have felt Cargius’ intervention, and those closest to its source the most sorely.
“Strengthen the wards at every entrance, and make sure the prince stays indoors.” These were Fren’s first thoughts and first words. She pushed past the startled girl and headed back up the hall dabbing at her bloodied nose with a handkerchief. Kane was coming down the stairs, more sedately than Lea had. He was naked to the waist. His hair was dishevelled, likely the work of Lea’s hands, and he looked more irritated than concerned.
“What is going on?” he demanded in that petulant way of his.
“Nothing you need worry about, go back to bed.”
Lea hurried to usher him back up the stairs. As she went she made the sign of protection. “Be safe, mistress. May the benevolent one protect you.”
The door was opened for her and Fren stepped out into the cool night air. All over Illandia she knew the other members of the council were doing the same. They had to meet and fast. All was quiet except for the dripping of water from the eaves and the distant bark of a dog. A check to see no one was watching, then with a muttered word and a flash of green light she changed form and winged her way out of the yard. The fog was thicker than usual so she flew low over the criss-cross of dimly lit streets and promenades below, but there was little chance of becoming lost. After almost two centuries residing in Arkaelyon’s beautiful capital, Illandia’s roads and thoroughfares had become as familiar as the deep lines on the palms of her hands. And when sight failed her, it was easy enough to navigate the city by smell.
She flew past the spire of the bastard’s church and descended until she was flying just above the rooftops and then lower still until the buildings were whipping past on either side, dark and ethereal in the fog. It was just a precaution but a necessary one for to take to the air so soon and close to an intervention was to risk detection. And they could ill afford to have the grand temple far below Paddling’s market discovered by white druids.
She soared down Marbot Street, over a wall and in through the open window of a dilapidated tenement to settle on the floor. She had barely transformed back into human form when a pair of wings whispered into the room behind her and a flash of green light heralded her vain sister’s arrival. The other members of the elder’s council had already arrived. She could tell that from the taint of their passing in the musty stale air that permeated the rotting building and its unwashed and sleeping tenants—most of them four-legged and furry. Not a word was spoken as she lit a candle and slipped out into the dark hall, to make their way down to the basement, then down further to the subterranean tunnels below. The password was uttered at an iron door, and the hinges groaned loudly in the still air.
The robed guard, closed the door in their wake as Keira said, “Have you checked your bones?”
“Not yet.”
“Well I have. You should know it was more than an intervention, sister. There’s been a change in the fates. Those sanctimonious bastards have touched her blood this time.”
Fren had expected as much but she didn’t let that show on her face like her extravagant sister. “Then, at the very least we might now get some answers.”
“We need more than answers.”
Fren ignored her sister’s impatience. Keira had been one of Brutarius’ mistresses, and even after two hundred years she hated the white druids more than was natural. They rounded a corner in the stone passageway and the main door to the sanctuary stood before them. The cover on the peephole opened at the sound of their footfalls and on seeing them approach the guard quickly threw the bolts. The stench of fresh slaughter, the undulating chant of the elders and the heat from the roaring fire in the hearth across the circular chamber assaulted their senses. Twelve of their number had already arrived, more than enough to undertake a seeing ceremony. Attired in the grey hooded gowns of the eldership, they were standing in a circle facing the altar, their eyes were
closed and faces were lifted to the dome ceiling as they gave supplication to the goddess. Except for the hearth, their hands were linked to protect those at work at the altar.
Henry had already lain out a new sacrifice and with the aid of four altar servants; he’d opened the young woman’s throat and belly. The warm frothing blood had run into the channels in the surface of the stone table and was dribbling into a silver chalice from a drain while Henry worked with efficient hands to remove the organs and place them on a silver platter being held by one of the white robed servants.
Two more white-garbed servants emerged from a shadowed staircase in the wall. Already clearing her mind so the sight might enliven within her, Fren held out her arms as her robe was fitted. Keira adopted the same posture, and when they were attired in their council garb they entered the circle through the gap in front of the fireplace to take up their positions before the sacred hearthstone. The chanting was growing louder, and both high priestesses added their voices to the prayer.
Fren could feel Maig’s presence entering the chamber, and the scent of the forest in autumn, now competed with the stench of blood and gore. With the work done on the sacrificial altar, the two white robbed servants brought the silver platter and bucket to the hearth stone, each bowing low as they handed them off to the priestesses. The incantation was reaching its crescendo and with it Maig’s presence moved around the chamber with growing fury, buffeting her faithful servants and setting the flames in the fireplace snarling. When the last word was uttered, the wind stopped and a silence fell.
Fren waited, and when she felt Maig’s hand on her shoulder she sloshed the chalice of blood onto the hearthstone. Keira then emptied the warm organs there too, and together they knelt and began to whisper the charm to unlock the Sight. Henry undid the drawstrings and opened a pouch for Fren and she slipped her hand in and pulled out a tress of blond hair. She peeled off a few golden strands and placed them in the blood before putting the rest back in the pouch. Then she closed her eyes and raised her arms to finish the last lines of the chant. When the final word left their lips to echo around the circular chamber roaring flames burst out of the fireplace and consumed the offerings like a blast from a smithy’s furnace. As always the heat was searing and the stench of roasting flesh and blood infected the air. As fast as it had come, the tongue of fire retreated until it was merely flames flickering in the hearth.
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