Tree of Ages Box Set

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Tree of Ages Box Set Page 24

by Sara C. Roethle

Gilion looked nervous again. “She was here. She wants the girl. The girl is the key.”

  “The key to what?” Finn asked, stepping forward once more.

  “What do you think you were meant for?” Gilion snapped, suddenly no longer afraid. “You are a tool. Your people put you away until they were ready to use you. Your presence here shows that the time has come. The Cavari will return.”

  Finn shook her head as tears began to stream down her face. “I don't understand.”

  “Quiet,” Iseult ordered the old man. “We came here to find the location of what we seek, not to have you to speak ill of our companion.”

  “Companion, pfft,” the old man said, suddenly angry again. “When the time comes, you won't be on the same side. None of you will.” The old man's stern expression melted as if he was listening to things that only he could hear.

  Àed's entire body trembled as he tried to process the information. “Where's me daughter!” he shouted suddenly.

  Gilion snapped back to attention. “You won't find her. Well, you might if you stick with the Cavari wench . . . eventually.”

  Iseult's face was an emotionless mask. “We are wasting our time. If he cannot see, he will not be able to tell us if the map is accurate.”

  Gilion turned his milky gaze to Iseult. “Eyes are useless. I can see more than you could ever imagine.”

  Having had enough, Iseult slapped his map down on a dusty tabletop near the old man. “Tell us if the map is accurate, and we will leave you.”

  Gilion glanced at the map and rubbed one edge between his fingertips. He turned back to Iseult. “You'll have to betray her in the end, you know.”

  Iseult stood over the man menacingly as if he might strike him.

  “What do you want with the Archtree?” Gilion asked, his voice sounding fearful once more.

  Iseult lifted the map and began to roll it back up. “So it's accurate?”

  Gilion tsked at him. “Answer my question first.”

  Iseult turned to go. “My answers are my own.”

  Gilion cackled. “You do not want to lie in front of them. You're afraid they'll find you out.”

  Iseult reached for the door wordlessly while Àed and Finn watched the scene play out, mere spectators to something they didn't fully understand.

  Gilion's eyes lit up with recognition as he stared at Iseult's back. “Uí Néid? I thought I smelled it on you. You want the shroud of the Faie Queen.”

  Iseult turned to glare over his shoulder at the old man in response.

  Gilion brought his palms together in front of his face and smiled. “She wants the shroud as well. If you find it, she will simply take it from you.”

  “I will not!” Finn interrupted.

  Gilion gave Finn a disgusted look. “Not you. Keiren. It would be very bad if she were in possession of the shroud. If she had the shroud and the Cavari girl both? Utter disaster. Not that it matters anymore. She'll have what she wants in the end.”

  “Keiren has no need for the dead,” Àed said, his voice cracking with emotion. “As I recall, she hardly had a need for the living.”

  Gilion tsked at Àed. “The shroud has nothing to do with the dead. She who holds the shroud will be a uniting force of the Tuatha. She could stop what has been put into motion, or she could make it much, much worse.”

  Àed huddled around himself as if cold. “And which way does me daughter hope to go?”

  Gilion shrugged. “Neither, would be my guess. She cares not for the tides of war, all she cares for is power.”

  “If she's so power hungry,” Finn cut in. “Why has no one heard a thing about her since she disappeared?”

  “Because you have not been listening right!” Gilion shouted, straining his willowy neck out like that of a chicken. “You think the Gray City is ruled by some Alderman? Think again. The Gray City has been under the rule of a lady for decades, and the Lady of Migris? One and the same. Countless other cities. I believe she'd quite like having the Tuatha under her control as well.”

  “What is she planning?” Àed asked, strain evident in his voice.

  Gilion laughed again. “If she has the girl and the shroud, it will not matter. The Tuatha will follow her, and nothing will stand in her way.” He paused and looked directly at Finn with his eerie white eyes. “Especially if she has the girl.”

  Finn backed up against the wall near the door, shaking her head frantically. “I want nothing to do with it. I do not want the shroud. I just want to find my people so they can make things right.”

  Gilion smiled. “Are you sure about that lass? Your people would not like the company you keep.”

  Àed reached up and patted Finn on the shoulder. “We should be goin'. The old codger won't be tellin' us anything of use.”

  Gilion looked around nervously again. It was as if his more confident self was a possession, and the nervous man was the real Gilion shining through. “Follow the map,” he whispered quickly, “and destroy the shroud.”

  Àed paused, sensing the return of his old friend. “What about the Tuatha? They must be stopped.”

  “It is not worth the risk!” Gilion hissed. “If it were to fall into her hands . . . ” He started shaking his head over and over again, until the confident self came back. “If you bring me the shroud,” he began with a sly smile.

  “Let us go,” Iseult said as he gently guided Finn toward the door.

  Gilion lunged for the map still in Iseult's hand, but Iseult spun away from Finn and held it easily out of his reach. The walls of the small house began to tremble with some unseen force, and within moments were shaking violently. Dust covered books and pottery toppled to the ground, creating huge puffs of powder as they hit.

  Àed grabbed Finn and pushed her through the door as Iseult opened it. The trio ran down the hill with the earth trembling beneath their feet, not taking the time to look back. As they reached the riverbank and their nervous horses, their attention was drawn by a series of resounding crashes. They turned back to see that the walls of Gilion's home had begun to crumble, and were falling in on themselves.

  “We have to help him!” Finn panted as she turned pleading eyes toward Àed.

  “He is already too far gone,” he said sadly, just as the roof fell in.

  The tears that had never really stopped since Gilion began speaking now flowed even harder down Finn's face. Gilion had not been particularly pleasant, but she suspected that he had been tormented by some unseen force. Even if he had destroyed his own home to get rid of them, Finn felt compelled to go back and see if he still lived. She thought of Keiren and what a terrible person she must be, but did not say so out loud.

  A caravan of travelers that had been making their way down the Sand Road approached the bank to see what the commotion was. It was obvious that they could all see the rubble of the house now that whatever enchantment Gilion had placed upon it was destroyed.

  “We need to go,” Iseult stated as he glanced back at the gathering crowd.

  Àed shook his head one last time at the sight of Gillion's crumbled house. “Aye, I fear we must be goin'.”

  Finn spared a final glance at the rubble, then aided her companions as they calmed their frightened horses. A few spectators looked questioningly at them, but then seemed to decide that they had simply happened upon the sight like the rest of them.

  Óengus had not expected the building to come down so quickly. He had worried that Àed would sense him as he crouched beneath the back window of the house, but the old man had obviously been too distracted.

  He had run in the opposite direction when the foundation began to shake, and was sure that the party had not seen him.

  After the spectators had continued on their way down the Sand Road, he crept back up to the crumbled foundation. As he watched, several of the large stones that had composed the walls of the house were shifted aside. A moment later, out poked the head of Gilion, looking rather startled, but no worse for wear.

  “What happened?” Gilion as
ked, looking up at Óengus.

  Óengus stared down at him for a moment. “Your house crumbled down around you.”

  Gilion scowled. “It was her. I would never have brought my own house down.” Gilion craned his neck around, looking for a means of escape.

  “I might be able to help you out of this rubble,” Óengus offered.

  “I used to know how,” Gilion said, looking quite pitiful. “I can't seem to remember things these days.”

  Óengus tried to hide his annoyance. “Quite alright. I'll just need a favor in return.”

  Gilion perked up. “A favor? Yes, anything. Just get me loose.”

  Óengus smiled. The Faie Queen's shroud could be worth quite a bit more coin than a silly tree girl.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  She paced back and forth across the cold rock floor in a tower that rose far above the surrounding hills. The unyielding stone of the tower bore a resemblance to the expression on her face. She stopped and gazed out through a small window in the stone. Her icy blue eyes reflecting the sunlight made her look blind to the woman sitting in the corner, awaiting orders.

  Bedelia had been summoned to her lady's side early that morning, but had not learned much in the hours since she arrived.

  “I cannot see them,” Keiren snapped as she turned away from the window. “She cannot reach it first.” Keiren twined her deep red hair through her fingers in a rare show of anxiety.

  “Cannot see whom?” Bedelia questioned, surprised that anyone could escape her lady's clairvoyant sight.

  Keiren whirled on her, making Bedelia sit up a little more erect. Despite the light leather armor she wore, Bedelia suddenly feared for her life. It was a gift of Keiren's, instilling fear. She'd driven many a mortal insane without lifting a finger.

  The feeling of panic was suddenly dampened as Keiren approached seductively. The quick change made Bedelia light-headed. Keiren came to stand in front of her and reached a hand out to Bedelia's short, dark hair, wrapping its ends around her fingertips before letting it fall back against Bedelia's neck.

  “It has been a long while since you came to me,” Keiren said coyly as her icy eyes bored into Bedelia's dark brown ones.

  Bedelia smiled. “I have been sailing the Summer Isles in search of the Archtree my lady, as you requested.”

  Keiren smiled back, and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on Bedelia's lips. “I have missed you,” she said as she stood straight, pulling Bedelia up with her.

  Keiren was taller than Bedelia by several inches. It did not say much about Bedelia's height, as Keiren was taller than many men as well. Keiren leaned her neck down to kiss Bedelia again. “I have a new task for you,” she whispered a hair's breadth from Bedelia's mouth.

  “Anything,” Bedelia whispered in return, feeling the call of her lover's lips like lightning pulsing through her veins.

  Keiren's lips curled into a smile, still within kissing distance. “There is a girl traveling with my father. Something hides her from my sight. Gain her trust, and bring her to me.”

  Bedelia smiled a predatory smile in return. “With pleasure, my lady.”

  “What is it like in Migris?” Finn asked as they rode. They had a week before they would reach the great city, and Finn wanted to know as much as possible by then.

  Iseult glanced over at her before replying. “It borders the ocean. Within its walls is the largest port along the Melted Sea. Much of the trade from the distant marches runs through the port of Migris, which makes for large fluctuations of people within the city. It is also very windy there, and often very cold.”

  “Why is it called the Melted Sea?” she asked, thinking it was a rather strange name for an ocean.

  “Sometimes large chunks of ice can be spotted in the sea, larger even than the largest of ships,” Iseult explained. “There is a legend that the entire sea was once composed of ice, but that much of the ice melted, making it what it is today.”

  “What melted it?” Finn asked curiously.

  Iseult shrugged. “It is only a legend, and as is the case in most legends, it was the Faie who melted the sea.”

  Finn glanced over at Àed. He had spoken very little since they'd heard news of Keiren. Gilion had claimed that Keiren was after the shroud, but Finn still felt that the shroud was better left unfound. What she wanted to find was the Archtree.

  Finn knew that the tree was her only real chance for answers. The Travelers had given her some idea of who she was. Then Gilion . . . Finn did not want to believe what Gilion had said. The old man was mad, and could not be trusted.

  Although, she could not call the man a liar, not for certain, as she still did not know her past. If her people had been the ones to turn her into a tree, wouldn't they have found a way for her to keep her memories? Unless her memories did not serve the Cavari's purpose. Finn shook her head in an attempt to shake the thoughts away. Soon she would have the truth.

  She had not spoken to Iseult about the shroud since Gilion had revealed what the shroud was really for. Her heart hurt for Iseult. He had wanted to use the shroud to contact his family. Now he would simply have to settle for any answers the Archtree might offer him.

  “Now explain to me again how to find the Archtree,” Finn requested in order to distract herself.

  “The map shows that it is on an island, far North in the Melted Sea,” Iseult explained. “We will find a small ship in Migris, and do our best to navigate by compass in order to find it.”

  It seemed to Finn that it would be rather hard to navigate when all of the water looked the same. “This map has existed for over a century,” she began. “Why has no one else sought to use it?”

  Iseult looked off into the distance for an extended period of time, as if he were debating what to say. “My people created the map,” Iseult reminded her. “After we discovered the Archtree, and we realized that it was in fact the tree of legend, we did not want others to find it. We created the map to appear as if it led to nothing of value, just the small uninhabitable islands farther North than most feel the need to sail,” he finished. “It was kept in the Archives simply because it was old.”

  “But-” Finn hesitated, “how did your people find it in the first place?”

  “As it was told to me by my mother,” he explained, “A group of Uí Néid sailors had set out on an expedition to map the Summer Isles, though most of the isles are just large jagged rocks. In times of bad storms, many ships had been destroyed by them. My people wanted to map the isles so that they would not run afoul of them in times of low visibility. It was while mapping these isles that the Archtree was discovered.

  “The crew had landed on one of the larger islands to seek out any resources that might be found. As the night grew chill, they made a fire from some dead branches that had fallen off of a grand tree. As some of the smoke from the fire entered the crews' lungs, they began to hallucinate. To each member, the truths he most fiercely sought were revealed. Upon waking the next morning, the crew realized what they had found and created a map.”

  It was quite a story, but there was one thing still unclear to Finn. “You say that the crew was given answers without asking. How do you know that the Archtree will lead you to the shroud?” she asked.

  “It was my mother's greatest wish to absolve my people of what brought their end. The theft of the shroud was what brought about the war, and it should be returned to the Faie,” he explained. “The location of the shroud is the answer I want more than any other.”

  “I thought you wanted to give the shroud back to the Cavari, not the Faie,” Finn prompted.

  “I believe the Cavari to be Faie, and you are Cavari. Giving you the shroud will absolve my people,” Iseult said.

  Àed had ridden further ahead, obviously not interested in their conversation. Finn did not blame him, he had enough on his mind.

  “The Cavari stole the Faie Queen's shroud from the Travelers,” Iseult went on, revealing details that Finn had not yet heard. “The Ceàrdaman were my peo
ple's allies, once. They told us of the theft of the shroud, but we were misled on what the shroud actually does, apparently. Though I do not know the histories of that particular exchange, I'm sure they did not actually lie. The Travelers have a way with words. They could, given the time, make you believe the sky is green . . . ” he trailed off.

  “Did the Travelers ask your people to steal the shroud back?” Finn prompted, seeing that Iseult's mind had gone elsewhere.

  Iseult shook his head. “They were not even aware that we stole it at all. My people believed the shroud to be a connection to the dead, another great secret, like the Archtree. We did not want to steal it for the Travelers. We wanted it for ourselves.”

  Finn was silent, waiting for Iseult to go on.

  “Then the Faie War started,” he said finally. “My people refused to tell the Travelers why the Cavari, who had been peaceful until then, attacked us so ferociously. We could not tell them that we had stolen what had been taken from them, only to keep it for ourselves.

  “Though Uí Néid possessed greater numbers, the Cavari had powers that we had not imagined. My people were nearly decimated, though they took many Cavari with them. A portion of my clan was left alive, including my great, great grandmother, who was with child at the time. We held our histories close, never forgetting what had happened, but never sharing it with others either,” he finished with a distant look on his face.

  “Why did the Cavari stop? You would think they would have attacked until the shroud was returned to them,” Finn prompted.

  “We do not know,” Iseult answered. “Most of them disappeared. The few that remained continued to pick off my clan members over the decades. Now I am all that remains, at least as far as I know.”

  “Why did you not tell me all of this before?” Finn asked as tears streamed gently down her face.

  “I recognized your face from a book the first night I saw you,” Iseult explained. “You were special, even among your people. I feared-” he paused. “I feared that you would want to carry out the will of your people once your memory returned. I did not want to speed that process until I'd had the chance to convince you that I want to end the bloodshed, and to keep it from happening again.”

 

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