Glimmer in the Maelstrom: Shadow Through Time 3

by Louise Cusack

  ‘Sex?’ Darten said, and Kert felt his cheeks grow hot despite his best efforts at control. ‘Give her.’ Darten shrugged. ‘Whatever required. Survival paramount.’

  Kert was a moment finding his voice. ‘I am her Champion. Besides, she is a child …’ But Darten was shaking her head and Kert knew he was lying. Glimmer wasn’t a child. She was a woman. Old enough to be married on Ennae. Old enough to join with a man.

  Darten glanced over his shoulder in the direction Glimmer had gone. ‘She accept refusal?’

  ‘Probably not, but I may yet be able to sway her with reminders of her duty.’

  ‘Duty?’

  ‘Glimmer is to join this world with three others. Many people will die, but some will be saved. Life will go on, but only if she sacrifices herself.’

  Both Darten’s eyebrows rose this time. ‘Her sacrifice?’ She shook her head. ‘She all self.’

  ‘I must convince her otherwise.’ But how? Glimmer had become a petulant tyrant but she was still the King’s niece and The Catalyst. Manipulating her with the pleasures of the flesh was too crude an idea to be entertained. But there were degrees of seduction. Could he not woo her with charm and flattery, thereby gaining mastery over her emotions and her will without recourse to … cruder measures? His swordsmanship had been renowned for its subtlety. If, in this dance of love, he could be likewise adept, appearing to fall under her spell while still holding her at arm’s length, he may win his freedom and still retain his honour. That was a challenge worth pursuing.

  Darten, watching him, shook her head, but Kert was already beginning to plan how he would begin his campaign. He settled himself in his comfortable moss bed to watch over the Domedweller and ponder his options while he waited for Glimmer to return. Yet before he had even begun to relax, the ground beneath him began to tremble.

  ‘Cave fall!’ Darten called, sitting up. He saw her eyes wide and white in the gloom of the dimly illuminated cave, her hand scrabbling on the floor.

  ‘Stay where you are,’ Kert shouted, wondering if this was another sign of Glimmer’s anger. There had been nothing like this since their arrival on Haddash. ‘Unless the air outside has cleared, we must take our chances here.’

  ‘Years now, readings anomalous,’ Darten grunted as she crawled across the cave floor, hampered by her veils. She stopped and crawled back to her bed of cushions. Light flicked upwards in a beam and he realised she had retrieved her mechanical torch. ‘Something strange. Deep,’ she said, fiddling with the side of the metal stick and then setting its base down on the cave floor. Its light trembled on the rock ceiling.

  ‘What are you doing?’ At least she wasn’t trying to escape.

  ‘Measuring.’ She picked up the mechanical torch and looked at the side of it, frowned, and put it back down. The beam danced around and Kert marvelled at this light without apparent fire. Barrion of Verdan, the inventor among them, would be awed by this device. The second time Darten picked it up and inspected it she said, ‘Whole planet,’ her voice soft, as though with disbelief.

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  She looked up at Kert. ‘Core rebound signal. Planet tearing.’ She shook her head. ‘Something there. Something … hot.’

  ‘There’s something at the core of this world, tearing it apart?’

  She blinked then refocused on him. ‘Certain.’

  ‘How long?’ Kert said, unconsciously mimicking her clipped speech pattern.

  She shook her head. ‘Days?’

  If it had started before they arrived on Haddash it wasn’t of Glimmer’s making, but she could probably stop it. He hoped. ‘Wait here,’ he told Darten and rose awkwardly, taking a second to find his feet on the trembling floor. Dust and pieces of rock from the ceiling had begun to fall and he feared the whole cave would collapse on them.

  ‘Fast,’ Darten said, but before Kert reached the entrance to the bathing cave the tremors abruptly ceased.

  He turned back to find Darten looking at her measuring torch again.

  ‘Stopped.’

  ‘I see that,’ Kert replied.

  She looked up slowly, meeting his eyes with something akin to reluctance. Fear? ‘Not geological,’ she said. ‘Too … sharp.’

  Kert frowned. ‘And it can’t be the Fire God,’ he said. ‘Not while The Catalyst is on this world. Something of the Maelstrom?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not external.’

  Not the Maelstrom or Glimmer. What then?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Mihale sat quietly at the head of the table in the valour hall of the royal Volcastle. His first night back. The room was quiet and still, the revels ended, though in the distance a fearsome storm could be heard battering the mighty stone walls that protected them.

  Not far away in the great hall, no ceiling covered the Volcastle mouth and it had been deluged with water from the sky. Mihale had no idea whether the fire that roared in its belly could be extinguished. And if it could, what that would mean. The anchor The Catalyst had installed in the Volcastle seemed impervious to the weather, and while it remained, Mihale had hope that the castle would survive the destruction around it.

  Talis alone remained in the hall with his king, seated at his side, ready to escort him back to his chambers.

  ‘Your tankard is empty, Majesty,’ Talis said politely when Mihale caught his eye. ‘Would you have me refill it?’

  ‘Or should we retire?’ Mihale asked, gazing across at his Champion, seeing the familiar solidarity of form and personality. Talis was not handsome, yet neither was he ugly, and though they had not spoken of this matter since his awakening from death, Mihale knew that Khatrene loved Talis more than life. More than him.

  Banish him if you would have her to yourself, the voice inside his head said. Mihale ignored it and did not bother to hide his irritation at the intrusion. From the moment he had let the entity into his mind in return for it awakening his body from deathly slumber, Mihale had felt regret. Not regret to be returned to Ennae and his throne, but regret that he had let an unknown intruder into his mind where it could control his actions at will. Its obsession with the Plainsman memory stone had made Khatrene suspicious and Talis overly polite, which saddened Mihale. He felt so alone.

  You appreciate my candour, the entity said, and to illustrate Mihale’s lack of control the entity forced words from his mouth, ‘When you retire, Talis,’ Mihale said, ‘where is it you sleep?’

  Talis was clearly startled by the question, but Mihale knew he would receive nothing but truth from him, and he hated the entity for torturing his friend.

  ‘With the woman I love, Majesty,’ Talis said softly.

  ‘Good,’ Mihale blurted in the second before the entity took control again and forced him to say, ‘Yet my sister told me before I was killed that you loved her. Is that true?’ Mihale’s hand rose to finger the talisman at his throat and he wondered why the entity insisted they keep it. He still couldn’t use it.

  ‘Majesty, yes,’ Talis replied solemnly. ‘With all my heart.’

  ‘Then what you are admitting,’ the entity went on, manipulating Mihale’s mouth though he struggled hard to regain control, ‘is that nightly you lie with my royal sister?’

  He loves her, Mihale railed. Leave him alone.

  ‘Majesty, yes,’ Talis said, his face composed.

  ‘Interesting,’ Mihale heard himself say. ‘You understand that your actions contravene royal law? My sister cannot be prosecuted but you can.’

  Talis stared at him mutely and Mihale could have cried for the look of desolation that came to his Champion’s eyes.

  ‘I will think on these matters. Bring the Plainsman to me,’ he commanded.

  Despite his obvious concern for his own future, Talis said, ‘It is late. Majesty, and the Plainsman is old. He leaves on the morrow with The Dark’s party for Be’uccdha, thereafter to be returned to his people. If Your Majesty could wait until morning —’

  ‘He leaves?’ Mihale felt his forehead crease into
a frown that matched his imperious tone. ‘I gave no permission for him to leave the Volcastle.’

  Stop! Mihale hissed within his own mind, knowing that only a blinding headache could prevent the entity’s manipulation of him.

  ‘Majesty, perhaps those of his party assumed he had received permission when … clearly he has not.’ It was none of Talis’s fault, yet by his tone he expected to be called to account for it, and that greatly distressed Mihale. He had lost the trust of his Champion.

  ‘Bring him now.’

  Talis rose and left.

  Mihale concentrated on amplifying the ache he had created behind his eyes. The entity had promised to take only a small corner of his mind, to live vicariously through him, yet now he controlled Mihale at will.

  ‘Majesty, the Plainsman Breehan,’ Talis said tonelessly when he had brought the shuffling old man to stand across the table from his king, blinking sleep from his eyes.

  ‘You were on Haddash with The Catalyst,’ the entity said through Mihale.

  ‘I was,’ Breehan replied in a voice worn thin by age. ‘Briefly.’

  ‘Stop staring at my talisman.’

  Mihale watched the old Plainsman’s gaze rise to meet his eyes. ‘Your talisman?’

  ‘If you do not address me correctly,’ the entity said, ‘as “Your Majesty”, you will finish your days in a dungeon cell.’

  ‘My days are already over.’

  Mihale’s body stood, and despite resisting with all his mental strength, his legs took him around the table to face Breehan. ‘Did The Catalyst take anything from Haddash? An oval artefact?’ Mihale indicated the size, about his shoulder width. ‘An egg you took there many years ago.’

  What is this oval? Mihale demanded. Who are you?

  ‘Why are you interested in the Fire God’s child?’ Breehan asked, his gaze narrowing.

  Mihale’s internal struggle ceased and his headache began to fade. Into its place flowed terror, like ice water down his spine. The Fire God of Haddash. An entity with the power to take another’s mind.

  You need not fear, the entity said, but Mihale was consumed with it. And guilt. How had he been gullible enough to let the Serpent God of Haddash into his mind? Evil now had royal power at its beck. He must destroy himself, quickly, before Kraal destroyed the kingdom through its king.

  You will not, the entity said, then to Breehan, ‘You do not have what I want.’

  ‘I know you,’ the Plainsman said in reply, looking deeper into Mihale’s eyes. ‘Old friend. Now I see how you acquired the talisman.’

  Mihale felt his hand move but had no power to stop it grasping the dagger at his waist.

  No! he screamed, but there was nothing he could do, nothing Talis could or would do to stop his king stabbing Breehan in the chest. It was a slow, deliberate strike which the aged Plainsman had no agility to counter. Then, adding horror to already violent shock, Mihale’s wrist twisted the knife. Breehan was dead before his crumpled body hit the ground.

  He would have revealed my presence, the entity said to Mihale. If it is known that you are possessed, you would be thrown into the Volcastle mouth. Is that what you want?

  Yes! Mihale shouted and he silently screamed to Talis, I am possessed. Look into my mind. But his mouth said, ‘The Plainsmen have always been enemies of the throne. And I will not tolerate disrespect.’

  Talis nodded and said nothing.

  ‘Take him away. I will not require you again this evening.’

  ‘Majesty,’ Talis said tightly. Then with a tenderness that tore Mihale’s heart, he reached down and cradled the limp and bloody Plainsman in his arms before he bowed and left the hall.

  Mihale felt sick enough to vomit. What are your plans? he demanded of the entity.

  Nothing firm, the voice replied. I seek only to experience all that The Catalyst’s birth has offered me. New worlds to explore, new possibilities.

  What possibilities?

  Firstly, the possibility that if I remain within your body I may survive the Maelstrom.

  Mihale would do all that he could to prevent that. Is that what you need the talisman for?

  It keeps The Catalyst from detecting my presence within you, Kraal admitted.

  That took a moment to sink in, then despite his predicament Mihale felt elation. Khatrene had been right. Glimmer was alive. The Four Worlds would be joined after all, and he must do all he could to ensure that the Fire God had no part in that process.

  You have proved useless in manipulating the stone’s power, Kraal said. And I would not trust the Plainsman with it, yet soon its secrets will be mine.

  Mihale felt sick premonition. Talis would never —

  Correct. But there is another. I have set the play in motion. Soon he will come to me. Then I will have more power than The Catalyst herself.

  Mihale could barely swallow. He was the foundation of all this. He had let Kraal enter his mind, given him access not only to a human form, but to royal power.

  When Lae had come to speak of Lenid, the dear son he had never known, Mihale had hidden his possession from her and he cursed now that he had been successful. Her grief had obviously blinded her discernment. Still, he must try to see her again on the morrow and hope that this time she would discern the intruder in his mind and denounce him.

  Kraal appeared to have complete power over him, yet Mihale would not surrender the fate of his sister and his people without a fight. All his actions would now be focused on revealing his possession or otherwise ending his own life, lest the whims of an evil God destroy what the Maelstrom could not.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ‘Tell me about the latest animal crusade,’ Vandal said and Petra shook her head, hair falling across her glasses.

  He was teasing her again, but she couldn’t help smiling. Her mouth actually hurt sometimes because she smiled so much. And why shouldn’t she? She was seeing Vandal every day, was almost his girlfriend. A fortnight ago she’d ached just to think about him. Now they were sitting together on his back stairs watching the sun go down. He was holding her hand and the ache was different, wild and fluttery, high up in her chest. Every night she dreamt about him kissing her, and every time the dream would end the same way. She’d get so excited her head would explode.

  ‘Magoria to Miss Mabindi,’ Vandal said softly, squeezing her fingers.

  She looked down at his hand and her smile widened. She wished she had the courage to squeeze back, but she wasn’t game to initiate anything. It was cowardice, yet a part of her still hadn’t caught up to the fact that the gorgeous and fascinating Vandal McGuire was interested in her. Besides, he was doing so well on his own, she should go with the flow.

  ‘I’m here,’ she said and looked up. The fluttering sensation deepened. It was a surprise and a rush each time she saw him gazing deeply into her eyes, knowing he was watching her and listening to her — knowing he was going to kiss her one day. ‘And I’ve told you about the whales twice.’

  ‘So tell me about the dolphins,’ he said. ‘I love to hear you all passionate about animals.’

  She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. The way he’d said passionate. She couldn’t stop looking at his lips. It was getting late, nearly dark. Maybe she should go before she made a fool of herself.

  She stayed.

  ‘Okay. Well, the story is that the dolphins are disappearing too,’ she said, glancing away because she couldn’t concentrate when he was looking at her like that. ‘And it’s not Japanese fishermen. You know the oceanic water level is dropping. Scientists still aren’t sure why. They think it could be evaporation, but how dolphins, let alone whales could …’ She shook her head, lost in the problem now. ‘I’ve heard of it raining cats and dogs, but cetaceans?’

  Petra knew the missing mammals weren’t hiding in the clouds, waiting to come down in the next shower, but they hadn’t turned up dead floating on the ocean surface either. They were simply missing. ‘Do you think it’s an effect of the greenhouse gases?’ she asked.
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  ‘I know what it is,’ he replied, mock solemn.

  She smiled again. ‘Oh, do you?’ Then turned, and was surprised to find his expression serious. He hadn’t been mocking her. ‘What is it?’ she asked, then wished she hadn’t. Instinct told her Vandal was going to say something terrible, something she wouldn’t want to hear.

  Petra had always felt more comfortable fantasising about his lips than she had thinking about how different he was, but his father was from another planet, you couldn’t get much more alien than that. When he’d first told her, she’d had nightmares about freaky things — Vandal taking off his shirt and laughing when she was horrified by the eye that stared out at her from the centre of his chest. Mega-creepy. She’d woken up in a cold sweat after that one and it had taken hours of reassuring herself that she’d seen him swimming heaps of times and there was no eye in his chest before she could relax around him again.

  He was normal. Apart from the Guardian blood in his veins he was completely normal. He’d promised her that, and his powers were wonderful, but at the same time they scared her. Logically, anything that could do good, must also have the potential to do bad, and she didn’t like to think of Vandal doing bad things. So most of the time she pretended he was just like everyone else, a regular boy. Unfortunately, today looked like reality check day.

  Vandal glanced over his shoulder, towards the house where they’d left his mother sitting quietly with her bottle of vodka, then he turned back to Petra. Even the cicadas were quiet. ‘It’s the Maelstrom,’ he said.

  Petra didn’t have a clue. She nodded for him to go on.

  ‘It’s a … storm. A big storm.’

  ‘Does it have something to do with your powers?’ she asked, wondering why his voice sounded so empty, and why the mention of his differences made her chest feel empty too.

  He shook his head. ‘Glimmer …’ he started, then stalled. He took back his hand and looked down into the darkening back yard, propping both elbows on his knees, his hands over his face. ‘God, this is harder than I thought it would be.’