"Our mother's death."
I slowed my pace until I had stopped walking. Devlin, who hadn't noticed at first, paused and turned to look at me over his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," I said.
Devlin shrugged again. "She died when Rhyne was still a boy and I was on the brink of adulthood. We tried to make it on our own for a few years but . . ." He trailed off and shook his head.
I started walking again. That explained why Rhyne was so eager to impress Fenrah and my sister. Perhaps he missed the praise only a loving mother could spare. I took a breath, wondering what that might feel like, then prompted, "But?"
"But it was harder than I thought it would be. Eventually, we made our way to the Weald and Enorah took us in. That was three years ago."
"Then, you aren't that old at all." My way of asking his age.
Devlin laughed, "No. I am only twenty-one. Rhyne is seventeen."
So my earlier guess was spot on. "How about your father? Could you not have gone to live with him?"
This time it was Devlin who stopped walking. I sincerely hoped, what with all our breaks, Enorah, Rhyne and Fenrah didn't leave us behind.
"My father does not live in Eile," he said quietly. "He is mortal."
Devlin didn't bother to wait for my reaction. He simply continued up the trail, now moving steadily up a hilly patch of the forest.
For several moments, I stood where he had left me. So. Devlin and Rhyne were Lorehnin, like the old woman guarding the smokehouse. Half mortal, half Faelorehn. And that would explain their unchangeable eyes. And why they chose to come to the Weald to live. Devlin hadn't mentioned just how close to adulthood he'd been when his mother died, but even if he was closer to fifteen or sixteen, it would have been difficult feeding himself and a sibling. And living in Eile as Lorehnin, with only a portion of the magic most Faelorehn possessed? That would have been much harder.
I watched Devlin's retreating form and really took note of how tense his stature was. He did not have the carefree stride of a well-honed warrior, unworried about the dangers that might lurk just around the bend. No, he had the weathered look of someone who had been forced to grow up far too quickly and to make choices someone his age should never have to make. And I completely understood that.
I drew in a deep breath, hiked my pack more securely onto my shoulders, and glanced up the trail that had disappeared over a small ridge. Before I could take that first step, however, a scream of terror rent the beautiful summer day. My long sword was instantly in my hand as I bound up the incline, reaching the top in less than thirty seconds. As I crested the ridge, I darted my eyes around, panting from the effort. The trail continued down the hill but flattened out onto a small meadow a few dozen yards away. Instinctually, I looked for my sister first and spotted her sitting on the ground, one leg bent, with her left arm draped across her knee. She looked as if she had just been in an intense fight and I thought I saw blood staining the sleeve of her tunic. Beside her stood Fenrah, her bow drawn with an arrow trained on something toward the ground. Devlin, who seemed to have just arrived on the scene, traded a few heated words with Fenrah before casting his short sword and dagger aside.
"We decided to stop and wait for you and Devlin. I noticed a patch of sugar blues and mentioned that they were my favorite and I hadn't seen them in the Weald in years, so Rhyne went to go pick some for me," Fenrah said, her voice a bit shaky. She drew a breath and cursed, her aim still held on the hole in the ground. "Stupid fool! I tried to warn him. He didn't see the slight indentation in the ground, but I did."
"What happened?" I demanded, my sword still ready in my hands.
"It took him. He stepped on the trap door and, something, latched onto his leg and yanked him underground. Enorah tried to grab him, but . . ."
Fenrah's voice was shaking, but her hands were steady on her bow and arrow.
I looked up at Enorah, my blood growing cold. The fearful look in her eyes and the slight shake of her head confirmed my suspicions.
"A tolgrah," I breathed.
Devlin stood up, his hands and forearms covered in mud from his attempt to dig his brother out. "A what?"
His face was pale and his blue eyes held fear. I didn't want to elaborate, but there was no other choice.
I took a deep breath. "A tolgrah is an insect-like monstrosity that lives in tunnels underground. They hunt their prey by building a trap door. Once something puts weight on it, the tolgrah attacks."
A prickle of icy disgust broke over my skin. I couldn't imagine anything more horrible than being taken prisoner by a tolgrah. About the size of a small bull, tolgrah were a clammy white color and their six legs resembled long, spindly arms with hooks on the ends. They used these arms to wrap around their prey, sometimes piercing the skin. If Rhyne was still alive, I hoped he hadn't been stabbed with one of these claws. Rumor claimed that the poison in them would stop a Faelorehn man's heart in less than a minute.
"How do we get him back?"
I had been so absorbed in my own thoughts that Devlin's sudden outburst caught me off guard.
"Sometimes tolgrah take their prey back to their dens before," Enorah paused, reluctant to continue. She didn't need to.
"Then let's go," Devlin said, turning to face the hole once again. He bent one knee and placed his hand on the mess of earth left behind from the tolgrah's attack. Closing his eyes and taking slow, deep breaths, Devlin became utterly still. A soft, yellow glow emanated from his fingertips and burrowed into the soil like a pack of hungry earth worms. I watched in fascination as Fenrah lowered her bow and Enorah climbed to her feet and moved to stand beside me. So this must be Devlin's gift, the bit of glamour he inherited from his mother.
That golden magic resurfaced and spread out over his hand, its hue a slightly different shade than before. Once it had absorbed back into his skin, Devlin was on his feet and moving. "This way," he barked, leaning down to grab his short sword and dagger as he jogged northward.
Fenrah and Enorah chased after him and I re-sheathed my sword before following.
Devlin led us over the uneven terrain like a hound on the scent, pausing every now and then only to dart off in a slightly different direction. Massive ferns, their leaves unfurling like emerald feathers, brushed at our faces, and more than once, we startled some wild creature from its hiding place. No matter the distraction, we kept moving through the enchanted forest, eager to find our missing companion. Fifteen minutes later, Devlin tore around an ancient beech tree and disappeared.
"Devlin!" Enorah shouted, sprinting to catch up.
The land had abruptly dropped into a tiny, secluded canyon on the other side, and at the end of the canyon I could just make out a cave. Devlin had stopped just outside the cavern entrance, his chest moving with his heavy breaths. We were all winded and sweating from the run.
Devlin moved to take a step and I grabbed his arm. He jerked it away from me, intent on saving his brother. I couldn't really blame him. I would have done the same if Enorah were in trouble. Not taking his actions personally, I reached out and grabbed the other arm, this time managing a better grip.
"Wait, we can't just go charging in there. Tolgrah are notorious for setting their victims in the corner of their lairs, then perching at the entrance. This way, if any predators get curious, they can easily capture a second meal."
I almost felt Enorah wince next to me and Fenrah let out a soft cry of distress. Yes, we needed to wait a moment to regain our bearings, but we couldn't wait too long.
"Let me go in first," I offered.
"No," Fenrah murmured, her voice deeper than usual. "It's my fault he got captured to begin with."
"Fenrah, he wanted to get those flowers for you," Enorah said. "It's not like you dared him or teased him into doing it."
Fenrah turned and looked at my sister, unshed tears in her eyes. "I know," she whispered, drawing a fresh arrow and placing it in her bow before she turned away. "But I still feel responsible. If not for me, he never would have step
ped into that clearing."
I wanted to argue, and so did Enorah, but we both knew what Fenrah was feeling. We had both been in the same situation before.
"No," Devlin said, his voice flat. "I'll go first, and you can cover my back."
Fenrah hesitated, but then gave him a short nod. Fenrah may have felt guilty, but she understood the bond between siblings.
"It will most likely be hanging from the ceiling, so be prepared for an attack from above," Enorah said as she drew an arrow for her own bow.
Devlin nodded, lifting his short sword and dagger in a defensive guard.
The canyon was narrow and cramped, forcing us into a single file line. There was no way the four of us could fit into the small gap in the earth, but I imagined Devlin and Fenrah could. Enorah and I were just there for back up. In the best case scenario, Devlin would coax the tolgrah out into the open and we could finish it off from there.
We drew closer to the small cave and once Devlin was only a few feet from the entrance, he froze. A soft moan of pain reached my ears and I almost sagged in relief. Rhyne was still alive. Unfortunately, the sound was too much for Devlin's nerves.
"Rhyne!" he shouted, darting forward into the cave.
"No!" Enorah and I cried together as we shoved our way forward, pushing Fenrah aside and become tangled up in the tight space in front of us.
A blood-curdling shriek sliced through the air as Devlin disappeared into the dark crevice ahead of us. I cursed, the fury of my glamour rising up with my anger. Somehow, I managed to keep my riastrad at bay as Enorah and I fought to find some space to move. In the next breath, Fenrah, who had been shoved forward by our struggle, crashed into us as Devlin was thrown back. After that, all pandemonium broke loose. I lost my footing and fell, Enorah collapsing on top of me. Fenrah managed to keep her feet, but her bow and arrow were knocked from her hands when Devlin slammed into her.
A small area was cleared as the tolgrah, in all its horrific glory, burst from the cave, its multiple jaws snapping and its clawed legs striking out like meat hooks. I felt myself pale. This one was full-grown, bigger than most I had seen before. Devlin shouted in horror as Fenrah screamed. I couldn't blame them. If I had never encountered a tolgrah before, I would have reacted in the same way.
"Move back!" I shouted as I scrambled to my feet, making sure to keep a good grip on my sword.
Grabbing Enorah's arm, I tugged her out of the way and stepped over Fenrah. Fortunately, Devlin had regained his wits and was standing with his sword and dagger ready to do damage.
"The underbelly is vulnerable," I gritted out, moving in beside him. The narrow space gave us limited mobility, but if we could just get the tolgrah to expose its abdomen . . .
Devlin must have been thinking along the same lines as me. With a harsh battle cry, he flipped his dagger in his hand so that he held the blade, then launched it at the monster. The knife did little damage to the tough, leathery hide of the beast, but it was enough to distract it. Screaming its rage, the tolgrah lifted up onto its back legs, whirling four of them at us like some grotesque horse trying to drive us away.
"Now!" I shouted, charging forward with my head lowered.
Devlin mimicked me and together we drove our swords into the monster's stomach.
The tolgrah bellowed in pain as a yellow, puss-like liquid streamed out of the gash, covering our hands and arms. It continued to thrash its legs, nearly scraping us with the long claws at their tips as we withdrew our swords and stabbed it again. As the tolgrah continued to kick, the life quickly flowing out of it, Devlin rushed forward and into the cavern. Moments later he emerged, carrying his half-conscious brother in his arms.
"There is a stream just on the other side of this canyon," Enorah said, her voice shaking.
She helped a battle-shocked Fenrah up and the four of us limped to the nearest water source. I couldn't wait to wash the tolgrah's blood from my skin, clothes and hair. It smelled of rancid meat and felt even worse.
I trampled into the water, ignoring the slick stones beneath my feet and the sharp bite of its chill. Devlin followed once he had placed Rhyne in a bed of soft moss and checked that he was breathing. As the two of us removed the gore from the fight, Fenrah and Enorah attended to Rhyne. Before we were finished, the women joined us, cleaning the grime from their arms and faces.
"He's stable," Enorah told Devlin. "I didn't notice any puncture wounds, but his lower leg looks like it might be fractured."
Devlin nodded, the water dripping out of his blond hair and into his eyes. "He's never been able to use his own glamour on any of his wounds, but maybe because his wound is internal it will be different." He wiped his face with a towel from his pack then returned to his brother's side. Tearing off a strip of cloth from his ruined shirt, he rung out the extra moisture and began caring for his sibling.
That night, we camped beside the small river. Rhyne woke a few times from his stupor, but it was only to cry out and grip his brother's arm. Enorah took a closer look at his leg and came to the conclusion that it was, indeed, fractured, but not so severely that he couldn't continue on with us.
"But, this will slow us up a bit and we'll have to construct a crutch for him," she said as she cleaned the leg and secured a splint against it.
My dreams were fitful that night, the ordeal with the tolgrah and the Morrigan's special brand of night terrors fighting for room in my head. Instead of finding Rhyne unconscious in the monster's cave, it was Meghan. The tolgrah gnawing at her flesh with its hideous jaws. I woke in the morning, my heart racing and my head pounding. Enorah gave me a piteous look, but we did not exchange words. There really was no need.
Fortunately, we avoided the worst the Weald had to offer for the next several days, and a week and two days after leaving the village, we emerged on the northeast end of the great forest. For several miles the trees remained, only instead of being dominated by oak and beech, we traveled under the pale green whisper of aspen and birch. Gradually the forest thinned out and we found ourselves looking down onto a wide green valley. And just on the other side of that valley stood an endless chain of mountains, their deep violet, snowcapped peaks piercing the clouds far above.
"The Amsihr Mountains," Enorah murmured, her voice holding admiration.
"It will take us a few days to cross the valley," Devlin said, giving his brother a concerned look.
Rhyne merely adjusted his weight on the crutch Fenrah had fashioned for him, his head turning away. He had been uncharacteristically silent the last several days as he pushed himself to keep up with us. We offered several times to rest and allow him to catch his breath, but he was stubborn as any full-blooded Faelorehn, insisting that we keep going. Fenrah, I noticed, had been less short with him as well.
We managed to get halfway through the valley that first day, choosing a wide, flat area beside the great river running through the land as our campsite. That night, we roasted skinned rabbits over an open bonfire and traded stories as the stars shone bright above us. Every now and then our general joy was tested as some wild creature of the night let out a mournful howl or predatory cry, but soon we relaxed and continued on with our revelry.
"So," Fenrah said, taking a swig of mead from the pouch she had brought along, "who can tell us more about the Amsihria, these weather-tamers? If we are to save their hides from a draghan, then I'd like to know more about them."
Devlin and Rhyne nodded in agreement and all three of them turned to look at me and Enorah. Naturally, most people depended on us for information, and it only made sense since we were the oldest and most traveled.
"They are Faelorehn, but they show their true age more than most of us do. Some claim that the reason for this is because long ago, some of their ancestors intermarried with the mortal races," Enorah began, accepting Fenrah's offer of mead. She took a drink from the pouch before continuing, "Other than that, the only difference is that they are all women, and they are born with glamour that is very discriminating. With most Faelorehn, ou
r glamour is pretty versatile, unless of course, you are Lorehnin."
She gave Devlin and Rhyne a quick glance, but they didn't seem to be bothered by her acknowledgment.
"The Amsihria's glamour is so specialized," Enorah continued, "that it seems to be more powerful than the glamour of other Faelorehn. But it isn't more powerful, just more effective. And their magic is used to tame the weather, as you pointed out, Fenrah."
"How?" Rhyne asked, picking up a log and tossing it into the fire. The sparks that escaped lit the dark sky for a moment before twinkling into oblivion.
Enorah shrugged. "No one but the Amsihria know the answer to that. The Maithar, their leader, makes it her duty to keep their secrets well-hidden."
"So, we should expect to be welcomed with caution," Devlin commented, crossing his arms and ankles as he leaned back against a stone.
Enorah gave him a sidelong glance. "I would imagine so."
Nine
Amsihria
The next morning we woke to a sky cloaked in fog, the peaks of the Amsihr Mountains hidden from our view. Enorah and I set a brisk pace, but not so strenuous Rhyne couldn't keep up. By mid-day we started the gradual incline that would bring us to the base of the range. The climb was difficult and as the fog burned off, the sun beat down on us. Fortunately, a thick forest of conifers spread down the mountainside like a green veil and once we were properly gaining elevation, we had plenty of shade to fight off the heat.
Around sundown we stopped for the night. The spot I chose was a bare patch of earth tucked away from the trail.
"I'll look for game," I offered.
"I'll help you track it," Devlin added as he removed his pack and set it on the trunk of a fallen tree.
We left, heading slightly up the path as Enorah, Fenrah and Rhyne got a campfire burning.
Devlin and I moved silently, keeping our senses sharp as we hunted for prey. For the first time since ordering Fergus to guard Meghan in the mortal world, I missed him. He had been with me for a very long time and his absence now, especially as I tried to seek out a rabbit or some quail for dinner, felt particularly tedious. I would have to try and contact him once we returned to camp.
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