by Maggie Furey
‘Dailika?’ Her heart leapt.
‘No, I’m sorry. It’s me, Corisand.’
That sudden leap into hope, only to have her expectations dashed so quickly, was the final blow that cracked the core of emotion she’d been holding in so tightly. Iriana wept at last, sobbing into the velvet comfort of the Xandim’s neck.
‘You’re mistaken, you know.’ Corisand’s gentle words came directly into her mind.
The Wizard took a deep breath, then another, and another, until she managed to get her tears under control. ‘Mistaken? What do you mean?’
‘I am the Windeye. I can see the burden of guilt you carry, dark and heavy, pressing down on you with a terrible weight and preventing you from moving through your grief. And you are mistaken, Iriana. Forgive me for prying into your thoughts, but I can also see what troubles you. There was nothing you could have done to help Esmon. On the contrary, he was the leader, and he was also on watch: it was his duty to keep the camp safe, and he failed you.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘And you could have done nothing to save your owl companion,’ Corisand went on relentlessly. ‘Your foe had such a power for evil in him - what could you have done? He gave you no chance whatsoever to intervene, so again - not your fault.’
‘I could have—’
‘Yes? What, exactly, could you have done?’
‘If only I had awakened earlier—’
‘If only your foe had never been loosed against you by Tiolani, or he had never been born, or you had never been born, or Seyka. Iriana, you cannot alter fate. If you start on “if only”, you’ll end up blaming yourself for everything that has gone wrong since the dawn of time. In trying to save Seyka, you might well have been killed instead, and then Avithan would most certainly have died.’
‘But I didn’t save Avithan,’ Iriana said miserably. ‘I only took him out of time, but Taine and I messed up the spell between us, and now Athina must take him back with her, to her home beyond our world. There is little chance that he will ever be able to return.’
‘Had you not taken him out of time, he would most certainly be dead by now, in which case he would definitely be unable to return. You have given him a chance, Iriana, and under the circumstances, a fighting chance is all that any of us can ask for.’
‘But I sacrificed poor Dailika in the process.’
‘You had to think quickly, and use the only weapon you had to hand. Otherwise you and Avithan would both have been killed. As Windeye of the Xandim, I can sense horses from far off, and I do not believe your mare is dead. I am aware of an equine presence moving away, heading towards Tyrineld; still half-mad with terror, but beginning to calm. Instinct is driving her, and she is making her way home.’
‘But there are so many dangers on the way. She might be attacked by wild animals or stolen—’
‘Iriana,’ Corisand said sternly, ‘Dailika has as good a chance as the rest of us to make it home safely. You can ask no more.’ She nuzzled into the Wizard’s shoulder. ‘My friend, all the guilt you are feeling comes down to one root cause: that you survived, intact, while your companions did not. And I believe we already know the reason for that. Athina has told us that we two are pivotal to the future of this world, and—’
‘And Tiolani.’
‘I do not count Tiolani,’ Corisand said severely. ‘She is far too undependable. When the Cailleach told me of her vision, she said that we would hold the fate of the world in our hands, to doom or to save. It may be that Hellorin’s daughter will turn out to be our greatest adversary.’
Iriana, much to her own surprise, smiled. ‘I notice that you put the two of us on the side of Good and Right.’
‘But naturally.’ Though the Windeye could not smile, her flash of humour touched Iriana’s thoughts, and in that instant they both knew that they were friends. The burden of guilt eased slightly from the Wizard’s mind, and she felt a little stronger. They talked on for a while, each telling the other the full tale of how and why they had come to this present moment. Iriana was particularly fascinated by Corisand’s account of her journeys to the Elsewhere, and the history of the Fialan, which the Windeye must capture in order to regain her magic and free her people.
‘Avithan wanted to create a powerful artefact that would defend us from the evil that both Cyran and Athina have foreseen,’ the Wizard mused. ‘Crystals are related to Earth magic, and one that could store the magic of many Wizards for one wielder to use might be the saving of us.’
The idea hit them both at the same time.
‘Iriana, would you come—’
‘Corisand, if Athina can send me through with you—’
‘Yes!’ they chorused in unison.
‘Let’s go and talk to Athina,’ said Corisand. Iriana called Melik back to her shoulder, and they all moved off together. All her life, the Wizard had longed for adventure. Now, it seemed she might be headed for another world to seek the magic Stone on which the futures of two races could depend.
34
MATTERS OF TRUST
The Cailleach paused in the open doorway and looked into the kitchen. What a difference a few simple comforts had made to this strange collection of visitors, who were beginning to blossom under the influence of warm baths, clean garments and a good, hot meal. Now they were all gathered in the cosy room on the ground floor of her tower: Taine and Aelwen sat at the table, still holding hands, while Corisand was wedged into the narrow space between the table and the door.
There was no sign of Dael.
Iriana, sitting at the other side of the table feeding scraps of bacon to the cat on her lap, still looked exhausted, her face pale and taut with worry, black shadows under her eyes. Still, that was only to be expected. Her losses had been the greatest, and she had just been forced to make a terrible decision, the repercussions of which would affect many lives - particularly that of the one she loved.
There was no time for grieving, however. The Cailleach knew that she must leave very soon now, and before she did she must set a number of events in motion. Hiding her worries behind a smile, she called out a greeting to her guests and walked into the kitchen.
‘No, stay where you are.’ She waved them back to their seats as they all scrambled to their feet. The scepticism she had sensed in the forest seemed to have vanished since she had brought them here to her tower in the blink of an eye. This newfound respect, she noted wryly, did not prevent them all from starting to talk at once, however.
‘Stop.’ She held up a hand for silence. ‘Let us proceed in an orderly fashion.’ She sat down and poured herself a cup of fragrant taillin, sweetening it with honey. ‘To begin with,’ she said, ‘I must tell you that I have another visitor here. Hellorin’s daughter, Tiolani.’
‘No!’ Corisand stiffened in shock.
‘Tiolani is here?’ gasped Aelwen. ‘How did you manage that?’
‘The same way I brought you and your companions here, of course. I’m surprised that you need to ask,’ Athina said dryly. ‘When she fell, she was caught by some of her comrades in a net, but they were all slaughtered by ferals, save Tiolani herself. I rescued her from them - but before I could do so, Aelwen, she had her whole life shattered all over again . . .’
Quickly, she told them what Tiolani had overheard when Kelon had encountered Ferimon. ‘She must now learn to live with her errors, if she can. I think - I hope - she will be ready to atone, if you will all encourage her, and give her the chance. We need her, my friends - especially you, Corisand.’ She had seen the Windeye’s ears go back and her neck snake out at the mention of the Forest Lord’s daughter.
‘Then that is unfortunate, for she certainly will not help me. And why should she, when I did my very best to kill her?’ Corisand replied. They all could hear her mindspeech now, since the Cailleach had made certain minor adjustments to allow communication to take place.
‘You forget that Tiolani has also killed,’ Athina said gently. ‘She is aware that she must atone, but she does
not know how.’ She turned to the Horsemistress. ‘Aelwen, you must explain to her that the only way she can redeem herself is to throw in her lot with us, and help save the world from disaster.’
‘What, me?’ Aelwen gasped. ‘But the last time we spoke she was threatening my life, too.’
‘She was grieving and confused; trammelled in a web of lies, deception and plots wrought by the very one she loved and trusted most. Now she has nothing. If you approach her in the right way she will turn back to you, of that I am certain. She needs comfort and understanding now, but also—’ The Cailleach’s voice turned stern, and a look as implacable as stone came into her eyes. ‘You must impress upon her that her only route to hope and redemption lies with us. It is up to you now, Aelwen. We are all depending on you to bring Tiolani back to us, no matter what your own doubts and feelings may be. Go now. She is in the study. Bring her back to us, for all our sakes; her own not least.’
‘I’ll try,’ the Horsemistress said. ‘For her mother’s sake, I’ll try, but—’
‘Don’t try. Do. Though you may never forgive her deeds, you must find it in your heart to forgive the deceived, confused and grieving child who perpetrated them. That applies to all of you.’ Athina’s gaze rested on each of them, one by one, and lingered on Corisand. ‘Tiolani has not been in her right mind these last few months. It is our task to bring her world back into balance. We must. Whatever she has done in the past, we need her now.’
Aelwen nodded acquiescence, but her eyes were haunted. Without another word she rose, and went upstairs.
Tiolani was walking in the Magic Bazaar, her favourite marketplace in Eliorand. It was a perfect northern summer’s day, the sky a bright, translucent blue and the sun high and strong. A heady medley of scents from forest and garden drifted on the breeze, as the entirety of nature strove to make the most of this short growing season.
The clear northern light was like crystal laced with jewels, throwing dazzling hues into objects that had looked so drab and dull in the dark days of winter. The Phaerie relaxed and opened up to one another, blooming like the flowers that cascaded from window boxes, trellises and balconies, and exploded from garden, pot and urn. The air was alive with laughter, talk and song, and in the Bazaar the traders were calling out the merits of their wares in lilting voices. And such wares there were!
Some bright stalls, with their billowing canopies of moonmoth silk, held all manner of paraphernalia for scrying and magical focus: great chunks of rough crystal contrasting with clear, polished spheres in a rainbow of colours; wands and intricately carved staffs, gleaming mirrors in all shapes and sizes, and gem-studded bowls of silver and gold. There were magical robes that changed colour as required, and kept the wearer warm or cool at need, and food that could change its texture and flavour to whatever the palate desired.
Tiolani was relieved and happy to be home. She’d awakened from a dark, dread nightmare, too horrifying to remember, but now she was home and safe, wandering through the delightful Bazaar with Arvain on one arm, and Ferimon on the other. Wanting to share her feelings, she turned to her lover. ‘How wonderful home is. I don’t think I ever really appreciated it before, but last night I had this hideous, appalling dream—’
‘Did you? Did you really?’ Ferimon turned to her - and changed. Instead of his beloved face, there was the head of a wolverine, one of the most vicious of all the forest predators. He snarled and bared lethal, pointed fangs. ‘Stupid Tiolani. Gullible Tiolani. Your nightmares are only just beginning.’ Suddenly he grew, shooting up into the sky until his gigantic form towered over the city. With a snarl he stooped, those fearsome jaws snapped, and Arvain was gone, devoured.
Tiolani screamed and tried to run, but she could not move a muscle. All she could do was look on in horror as Ferimon devoured the market, gnawed the buildings, consumed the shrieking, fleeing people. When he was done, Tiolani stood alone in a wasteland of tumbled ruins.
Ferimon looked down on her and laughed. ‘Stupid Tiolani,’ he repeated. ‘Pathetic, gullible and naïve. You made me what I am. You gave me the permission, the power, the ability. Soon now, you’ll lose everything - your father, your realm and your rule - and I’ll be laughing from the grave.’ He reached up and devoured the sun, and Tiolani was left alone and screaming in the darkness.
‘Tiolani, Tiolani, wake up!’ The sound of Aelwen’s voice catapulted Tiolani out of one nightmare and into another. Details came at her in a flash. She was still tightly bound in the heavy net, though she was no longer in the forest, but lying on a couch in a room filled with racks of crystals, mirrors, books and scrolls. There was no sign of her captors - and what was Aelwen doing here?
‘Don’t struggle, child. You’ll hurt yourself. You’re safe. You’re safe.’ Only when Aelwen spoke again did Tiolani realise that she was still screaming. With an effort, she brought herself under control, but she could not stop shaking. Everything came flooding back as Aelwen began to cut away the net: her fall, her capture, Ferimon’s death and the terrible, vicious, unbelievable words he’d uttered before he died.
The blood on her hands.
As the last of her bonds fell away, she flung herself into Aelwen’s arms, sobbing. ‘Oh, Aelwen, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s all right, child; you’re safe now. We’ll put everything right, you’ll see.’ Aelwen held and rocked her, as she had done when Tiolani was a little girl, until the sobbing finally faded away. With scalding shame, the girl remembered the way she had treated the Horsemistress, even going so far as to threaten to kill her. She didn’t deserve the sympathy and kindness that she had taken for granted her entire life.
After a few moments, Aelwen pulled gently away, her expression grave. ‘Tiolani, we must talk. First, you should know that I’m aware of what happened in the forest between Kelon and Ferimon - and that you heard the truth at last. Now, let me tell you where you are, and what has been happening.’
There were so many revelations in Aelwen’s narrative that Tiolani found it difficult to comprehend them all, but the most stunning to her was the notion that her father had trapped the Xandim, condemning them to serve the Phaerie all their days, and that Corisand could no longer be considered a mere beast.
How could this be true of her father? Had Hellorin really been so heartless and amoral as to strip another ancient magical race of its powers and its birthright? To destroy their civilisation and turn them into beasts of burden? But there was no denying it. She closed her eyes and shuddered. Had she not planned to rid the world of humankind for good? Like father, like daughter, she thought grimly. Are we really so very different?
Desperately she tried to find some excuse for her actions. Humans don’t count. They aren’t civilised beings, aren’t so advanced, have no magic. They’re only one step above the beasts. Her encounter with the ferals, however, had made her see things otherwise.
‘Tiolani?’ The firm voice of the Horsemistress penetrated the dark whirl of her thoughts. ‘Tiolani? Now that you know the truth, will you come back to us? Will you help us?’
Tiolani blinked herself back to reality, and the face she had known since the day she was born. Something in Aelwen’s eyes, a look of approval and pride, had changed; had gone, she knew, for ever. But even after everything that had happened, there was kindness, pity - and she hoped with all her heart maybe there was still some love. The sight undid her; shattered the remnants of her stupid pride, dissolved the last dark shadows of her hatred and planted, in their place, a kernel of hope. Was there really a way to atone for her terrible deeds, or wash the blood from her hands?
No. She knew in her heart that she could not undo what she had done, and never would. But atone? Maybe. She could hope for that.
‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked.
Aelwen, still holding her hands, looked at her gravely. ‘I told you about Athina, and what she said. She has foreseen that our world is headed for destruction, and she came to prevent that, if she could. But she is losing her p
owers here and must return to her home, so the future will be our own responsibility after all. She foresaw three people pivotal to the outcome; three who, in the days to come, will hold the destiny of the world in their hands, to doom or to save. One is Iriana, a remarkable young Wizard whom you will meet; one is Corisand; and the other is—’
‘The other is you?’
‘No, child. It’s you.’
Tiolani was stunned. This was worse than she could ever have imagined, and she quailed from the responsibility. ‘How . . . how can I possibly put an entire world to rights?’ she quavered. ‘Look what a mess I made of caring for my own realm.’
Aelwen’s eyes burned into her own, such was the intensity of her stare. ‘Don’t be so spineless, Tiolani.’ The words were like a slap. ‘You can’t afford to be a spoilt little girl any more, whining and wailing when things don’t turn out the way you want them to. One thing is not your fault: Hellorin overprotected and overindulged you. You never had a chance to grow and learn by making your own mistakes, so when you were suddenly catapulted out on your own, with so much power in your hands, your mistakes were catastrophic, and you will have to live with their consequences for the rest of your days.’