by Maggie Furey
‘Here.’ He thrust the leading rein of the packhorse into her hands, then, not without a dreadful pang, he gave her Alil’s reins. ‘I can’t take them with me. The ferals eat horses. You’re better able to protect them. You seem to have found yourself among friends.’ He could not keep the sneer out of his voice. ‘I’ll take the provisions, if that’s all right. I’m sure these folk have more.’
A frown darkened Aelwen’s face, and her eyes grew hard as flint. ‘Curse it, Kelon, don’t be stupid. I don’t care if you’re angry, or upset, or disappointed, you can’t go marching off alone into the wildwood. You’ll die.’ She gripped his shoulders. ‘There’ll be someone else in time. Someone who’s meant for you. But that can’t happen if you get yourself killed.’
He twisted out of her grasp. ‘There was never anyone else for you.’
‘Kelon, stay, please,’ Aelwen begged. ‘It’s too risky out there. What about the Phaerie?’
‘I don’t have to worry about Ferimon at least.’ He shrugged. ‘I killed him.’
‘What? Kelon, wait.’
But he turned and walked away, grateful when the trees swallowed him in their shadows and hid her from sight.
Sorrowing, Kelon walked, neither knowing nor caring where he went. Climbing the steep bank, he came to the trail and crossed it, heading north-west. With his eyes fixed on the ground, he walked in a black haze of loneliness, misery and self-pity, his thoughts whirling with images of Aelwen in Taine’s arms; the incandescent joy on their faces; the aura of absolute unity that surrounded them. And himself, standing on the sidelines, alone and ignored.
‘Watch where you’re going!’ Kelon jumped, his heart hammering, and heard the sound of a soft female laugh. There in front of him was Danel, the leader of the ferals.
Kelon swore, his temper snapping. Her laughter was one humiliation too many, and he rounded on her savagely. ‘What the bloody blazes do you think you’re doing?’
She shrugged. ‘When you left, I thought I would stalk you in case that spell you were following got you killed.’
‘Then you could loot my gear and take the horses after all.’
She shrugged. ‘Well, you wouldn’t have been using them.’
He looked at her coldly. ‘I’m sorry my survival has proved such a disappointment.’
‘We gamble on our survival every day.’ Danel threw up her hands in exasperation. ‘Will we find food? Will the shelters hold up to the weather? Can we stay warm enough and keep our bellies full enough to live to see another sunrise? Or will the Hunt come in the night and lay waste to everything we’ve become?’ Her voice sharpened with a harsh edge of bitterness. ‘We do what we must - and sometimes that’s not enough.’
For a moment the jaunty courage left her stance, and she looked weary and beaten and sad. For the first time, Kelon looked at her closely and realised how thin she was: how pale, hollow-cheeked and pinched with the cold. The ragged clothes she was wearing must offer little protection from the elements. In that instant, his heart went out to her. She seemed so young for her responsibilities. She put his own troubles in perspective, he realised. Shame flooded over him as he contrasted her courage in the face of such appalling difficulties with his own self-pity over nothing more than a broken heart. The Phaerie viewed ferals as nothing but vermin, a dangerous nuisance to be exterminated wherever possible. He had never truly understood that they were people too, with the same feelings and physical needs as their masters.
‘Let me join you.’ The words sprang unbidden from his lips.
Danel cocked her head, put her hands on her hips. ‘And why would I be wanting another hungry mouth to feed?’
‘Because I can be a help to you, not a burden. My human grandfather, my mother’s father, was a forester. He taught me how to set snares, how to track and to hunt with a bow, how to butcher my kill and prepare the hides. Thanks to him, I also know how to catch fish and find dry firewood, and how to build a shelter in the open.’
Though less than an hour before, Kelon had been convinced that he would never smile again, he somehow found a smile for Danel. ‘So you see how useful I could be, if you’ll have me?’
The feral girl’s tired eyes brightened. ‘Everyone in our band was an escapee from the city. When we fled out here, none of us knew a damn thing about surviving in the wilds. All these years, we’ve been scraping by as best we could.’
Kelon remembered from several years ago the mass escape of slaves that had so angered Hellorin. Though a search had been made for them, using the Hunt, they had scattered far and wide into the depths of the forest. A goodly number had fallen prey to the Phaerie hunters - Hellorin had decreed that none of the troublemakers were to be brought back alive, no matter how great the inconvenience and expense to their former owners in Eliorand - but apparently, some had managed to keep both their freedom and their lives.
‘I think that what you’ve done is admirable,’ he told Danel. ‘Truly, I would be honoured to be part of your group, and glad to help you in any way I can. Eliorand holds nothing for me any more. Even if you won’t accept me, I won’t be going back. I’m finished with the Phaerie for good.’
‘Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place? Join us and welcome, Kelon.’ She offered him her rough, nicked, dirty little hand, and he clasped it in his own.
‘Follow me. I’ll take you back to the others. We’re following the instructions of someone who wasn’t there, and heading for a place that doesn’t exist.’
‘What?’
‘I’ll explain on the way - though in all honesty, I don’t expect you’ll believe me.’ With that, Danel slipped away through the trees, a shadow among shadows, forcing Kelon to hurry after her in order to keep her in sight. From over her shoulder, her voice came floating back to him. ‘I wish you’d hung on to the horses, though.’
Back in the clearing, Aelwen, swearing bitterly, began to hurry after Kelon, but was restrained by a hand on her arm. She swung round. ‘Taine, I can’t just let—’ But to her surprise, she looked into Athina’s face.
‘Take comfort, Aelwen.’ The Cailleach’s silver eyes turned as huge, sharp and gold as those of a bird of prey, gazed far into the distance, as though her vision could pierce the intervening trees - and not only the trees, but the veils that hid the future. ‘Kelon must walk his own path now, but do not fear. He will be as safe as any of you in these troubled times, and he will not be alone, or friendless, for I brought him hither to encounter some new companions, and to these he will go now.’
She took Aelwen’s hands. ‘Do not fret for him. It is better so. It would not be good for either of you to remain together now. You both need to be heart-whole: you to walk the ways of the future alongside the one you lost long years ago, and Kelon to live for himself and forge his own fate, instead of ever walking in your shadow. All will be well, child. All will be well.’
‘How can you possibly claim to know these things?’ the Horsemistress demanded.
Athina reached into thin air and brought out another red globe, tossing it carelessly to hover beside the others that had led Aelwen and Kelon to her. ‘I know them. And I brought you here, as I was explaining to the others before you arrived, because this group, all of you, will greatly influence the fate and survival of the world that we know.’
‘But—’
‘Enough. I want you all to come with me to my tower now. It is safe there, and we can deal with all the explanations, and plan our next move in comfort and safety.’
‘But—’ said Iriana.
‘Yes, I can use my power to move your injured friend without risk. Hopefully, I will be able to help him.’
‘But—’ said Corisand.
‘Yes, of course there will be food and shelter for the horses.’
‘But—’ said Taine.
‘Yes, you can trust me. Yes, it’s not that far. Yes, it is concealed from the Phaerie Hunt.’ By this time, the Cailleach’s voice was beginning to hold an edge of irritation.
Iriana
swallowed hard. ‘Athina?’
‘Now what? Oh, I see.’ Her voice dropped from irritation to gentleness. ‘Yes, my dear, of course we can tend to your fallen friends before we go.’
For Iriana this was a necessary task, but one fraught with deepest sorrow. Save for Avithan, the newly united companions clustered around Esmon’s body. The Warrior had been moved from the trampled, blood-soaked mud of the clearing to a gently sloping bank, soft and green with cushioning moss and overhung with fern, that reached down to the edge of the pool. Iriana had cleansed his body as best she could, and the others had helped her array him in the spare clothing from his pack, which hid the wound in his chest. But his clothes could not conceal the gaping gash in his throat, and Aelwen, seeing Iriana’s distress, went to her pack and took out the one treasure she had allowed herself to bring from Eliorand: a scarf of moonmoth silk, coloured by Phaerie magic in the shimmering hues of the rainbow. It had been a gift from Taine many years ago, before they were parted, and had absorbed many of her tears during the lonely years of their separation. When he saw what she carried, their eyes met in a lingering, secret look, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. Aelwen gave the scarf to Iriana.
‘But I can’t take this,’ the Wizard protested. ‘It’s a treasure of yours, I can see that.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Aelwen told her gently. ‘During all the time that Taine and I were parted, this was always a token of hope to me, that one day he would come back and our life together would be renewed. Now that he has returned,’ - she glanced at Taine, her heart in her eyes - ‘I have no need of such keepsakes. Let it stand instead for Esmon, as a symbol that one day he too will return, to another, happier life.’
‘Thank you, Aelwen.’ Iriana arranged the scarf around Esmon’s neck, hiding all evidence of the dreadful wound. Then, with a glimmer of tears in her eyes, she turned and took the limp body of Seyka, and laid it on Esmon’s breast. At least the owl would not be alone. Melik, still a little weak and nervy, but determined to fulfil his usual task as Iriana’s eyes, touched his nose once to the owl’s wing as if making his own farewell. Iriana stroked the cloud-soft feathers one last time and clasped Esmon’s cold hand in parting.
‘Stand back,’ she told the others softly. Lifting her staff to help her concentrate her power, she reached inside and found the hottest fire she could conjure. With a soft word she loosed the fierce energy. The bodies of the fallen vanished in a single flash of incandescent flame, and when the dazzle faded from the eyes of the watchers there was only a drift of soft ash, already blowing across the surface of the pool like a grey, translucent veil. Thus passed Esmon, consummate Wizard and dauntless Warrior; leader, mentor and friend. Thus passed Seyka, windchild, spirit of dusk and dawn; with courage and heart too great for one so small. Long would her winged ghost whisper on the winds of Iriana’s memory.
When the last of the ashes had blown away, Athina raised her hands and a shimmering silver mist rose up from the ground, enveloping the reunited companions, the horses, the entire campsite. When it dissipated, the clearing which had been the home of both tragedy and joy was empty once more.
33
TO SAVE A WORLD, TO SAVE A LIFE
Avithan lay on Dael’s bed, looking like the corpse he had so nearly become, the gashes of his horrific wounds standing out livid on his body, and his skin appearing bloodless and translucent under the silvery sheen of the time spell. The Cailleach looked down on him, with Iriana standing at her side. Melik was in his favourite place, slung like a heavy fur collar around the Wizard’s shoulders, lending her his sight.
The girl remained composed, her face betraying none of the anxiety she must be feeling. Athina could see, however, that the cat, so deeply attuned to his lifelong companion, could sense the feelings that she concealed so well. His eyes were wild, his ears were flattened, and the tip of his tail beat a restless tattoo against her shoulder. He’s on guard, Athina thought. He’s ready to protect her against whatever is causing her so much distress.
I wish I could do the same.
Having received a glimpse of Athina’s abilities when the Cailleach had brought them here, Iriana had been confident that this uncanny and powerful being would be able simply to wave a hand, and Avithan would spring to his feet, healed and restored. But she was doomed to disappointment.
Athina regretted bitterly that she was unable to help the girl. For the first time in an unimaginably long existence, she knew failure, and it filled her heart with fear. Her time in this world was running out fast, she knew. The strain of bringing the companions and their horses to her tower, following so closely on her similar transportation of Tiolani, had drained her power almost to the dregs. On their return, she had been forced to ask Dael to tend to the comforts of the new arrivals, instead of producing an instant hot meal out of thin air, as she had planned. It had cost her every shred of strength and control that she possessed to hold herself upright long enough to instruct him and welcome her guests, and she had barely been able to get back to her own upper chamber before collapsing with exhaustion. Dael had brought her food to restore her energies, but she had been forced to waste several precious hours resting while she recovered.
Food and sleep however, had restored her energies - up to a point. With Dael’s help, she had prepared a camp some distance around the lakeside for the ferals who would soon be arriving, and removed the glamourie from the island in the lake so that, for the first time since its creation, her tower would be visible to approaching strangers. But she knew all too well now that Uriel had been telling the truth. Each time she used her powers here she lost part of them, and the greater the effort she expended - as in transporting all those people and animals to her tower - the greater would be her loss.
Pulling her thoughts back to the business at hand, she turned to the waiting Wizard. ‘I’m so sorry, Iriana. There is nothing I can do for him at this time.’
Iriana swung towards her, anger in every line of her body and her lovely face. ‘What do you mean, there’s nothing you can do? I’ve seen what you can do, damn it. I’ve heard you bragging about how powerful you are; how you came here to change the future for us poor, primitive beings. Well, change this, you bitch.’ She seized the Cailleach’s shoulders and began to shake her. ‘Change this.’ Now that her iron control had finally snapped, her grief was pitiful to see.
‘Iriana.’ Gently, Athina caught hold of the Wizard’s wrists and pulled her hands away. ‘Iriana, I have to tell you something that will be very difficult for you to hear.’
Leading the girl to the broad window seat, she sat them both down. There was no easy way to do this. ‘There are two reasons why I cannot help your Avithan in the here and now.’ Quickly she explained that she should not have been in this world at all, then gave a brief account of Uriel’s visit, his dire warnings and the way they were beginning to come true with terrifying rapidity.
‘So you see,’ she finished, ‘I will barely have enough power to help you and your companions accomplish what you must. Healing Avithan would be a long, arduous and difficult task. Even if I survived it, it would be the final drain on my powers, one from which I could not recover. I would perish here, in this world I came to save, and with the death of an Immortal, the entire Universe, in this reality and others, would be thrown out of balance.’
Iriana remained silent for a moment, her face averted, then she turned back to the Cailleach. ‘But why? I don’t understand this. Even if your powers are so drained, it would only take a little - just a little - to preserve Avithan’s life. If you could only heal him enough to keep him from dying, our own Healers could carry on from there.’
This was the part Athina had dreaded most. ‘Iriana, I cannot. I’m afraid that the problem is the time spell you and Taine concocted.’ She gripped the girl’s hands tightly. ‘My dear, you must remember that you had no choice. In no way is this your fault. If the two of you had not wrought your spell, Avithan would already be dead, and immolated on that funeral pyre along
with Esmon and Seyka. You did the only thing you could to save his life. But neither of you had performed that spell before, especially not on a living body, and the twining of Wizard and Phaerie powers has resulted in a tangle of magic that will take huge amounts of time and effort to unravel - if it can be done at all.’
The tears that began to fall from Iriana’s sightless eyes were like a knife in Athina’s heart. ‘Listen now.’ She put all her powers of compulsion into her voice. ‘Listen to me carefully. All is not lost. There remains one thing that we can do. When I return to my home beneath the Timeless Lake, I can take Avithan with me. There, where time holds no sway, I will be able to deal with the spells that surround him. Once my powers have restored themselves, I can heal his wounds and make him whole again. But . . .’ - she lifted a warning hand as she saw the Wizard’s face light up with hope - ‘I must tell you now that there is no guarantee that I will be able to return your companion to you. My brethren have forbidden me any more direct contact with this world. Once I am safely home, it is almost certain that they will act in concert to block any routes back here, lest I should be tempted to meddle again.’