by LJ Rivers
Now there’s a piece of information that would blow your mind.
“Den.” My dad’s nickname slipped off my tongue like butter. “He was a fisherman. Until a Sorcerer burned a hole in his chest, that is.” I swallowed, and even felt a tear form in the corner of my eye. Holding my palms out, I gazed into the void between the two men, as if lost in a reverie. “I was too late to help him. But at least I took the Sorcerer’s head clean off with Da’s axe.”
Zacarias leaned forward. “I’m sorry, lass. The war took the best men, is what I always say.”
I sniffled and gave him a quick nod. Having used Dad’s name had made it easy to look heartbroken. “He was my hero.”
Poe raised his cup. “I’ll drink to that.”
“I’m sorry for having bothered you,” I said. “It was just the mention of Naheena, and …” I let the words hang in the air, hoping.
“Listen.” Zacarias lowered his voice. “There’s no point going to the Gwyntali now, anyway. All the Changeling leaders are up there.”
“Oh, right. Must be an important meeting, then.”
He shrugged. “The returned Sorcerer king is most likely on the agenda.”
Poe emptied his cup and wiped his bristly beard with the back of his hand. “I heard he chopped her head off and threw it in the deepest pit of Dewmas Mines, then rode into Avalen with Morgana’s headless body strapped on the back of a unicorn.”
“Wasn’t him that killed her, fool,” Zacarias said. “His new captain did it. She’s one of us, I hate to say.”
“Who?” I struggled to keep my disgust out of my voice.
“Gemma of Urth, a fox Changeling.”
“I—I have to go.” My voice cracked.
“What’s the rush, fair one?” Poe moved closer to the wall and pulled up a chair from the adjacent table. “We have all night.”
“My friends are waiting,” I said and hurried upstairs, the foxes’ laughter fading as I ascended.
Pullhelli, Jen, Mervyn, and Cynthia sat at a table in the back corner.
“We need to go,” I said as I approached them.
“Now?” Mervyn shook his hand as if he was holding a cup. “But we haven’t got our drinks yet.”
“We do now,” Brendan said behind me. He balanced a tray with six tin cups. “Make room, will you, Cynthia?”
The Fae archeress moved the wax candle away from the centre of the table, making room for Brendan and his tray, and of course triggering the grim feeling inside me.
Get a grip!
“All the Changeling leaders are in Gwyntali Village,” I said, trying to obey the common-sense voice in my head. “Anyone know how far that is?”
Pullhelli tapped his chin. “I’d say about a day and a half on foot.”
“Which means we should be on our way.” I motioned for the stairs.
Brendan stood, as did Jen and Cynthia.
“We should gather supplies first,” Pullhelli said. “Sit down and enjoy your ale.” He smiled at me. “You too, Ruanna. I’ll talk to the innkeeper. He might have some food and drink to part with in exchange for a few extra coins.”
“Don’t take too long,” I said as he left for the stairs.
About twenty minutes later we said goodbye to Mervyn outside the back entrance to the ale house. The innkeeper, a wolf Shifter, had gladly provided us with satchels of bread, vegetables, and cured meat, as well as a few water skins—three of which were filled with barley wine.
Mervyn joined the innkeeper as the rest of us trotted up the back alley towards the northern gate of the wooden wall that encircled the village. The young Fae would soon be joined by his captain and the rest of the crew, and looked pleased at the prospect of drinking more ale and playing a few games of Chonkle. Something told me he would not be singing about the red-haired lass, though.
Brendan dropped his satchels next to Jen’s—she had carried three in addition to two water skins—and helped me unload the two I was carrying on my back. We had arrived at Lake Brin, having walked more or less non-stop during the night. I had tried to keep track of time with my hourglass, and figured it would be around six o’clock in the morning, give or take half an hour. The dimly lit disc that rose above the eastern treeline told me I couldn’t be too far off, at least. On the dark, quiet surface of the lake, the reflection of the grey sun was distorted by jumping fish every now and then. We were surrounded by a thick pine forest on all three sides, which under any other circumstances would have felt eerie. Now, it gave me a calming sense of protection.
Brendan went to the nearest trees and unsheathed his sword. It wasn’t the best substitute for an axe, but after a while of chopping and swearing, he dragged an impressive load of branches back to our makeshift campsite. Pullhelli and I used our telekinesis to carry some rocks from the edge of the lake, placing them in a circle. Meanwhile, Cynthia and Jen provided wood to make a bonfire, and though I was dead tired, I had enough energy to flick a spear of flame at it.
“I’ll take first watch,” Cynthia said. “You all get some sleep.” She placed her bow in her lap, and her quiver on the grass next to her crossed feet.
“One awr,” Jen said. “Then we switch.”
I had expected to slip into dreamland the instant I closed my eyes, but even after Jen had taken over watch duty, I still couldn’t sleep. There were too many thoughts bouncing around in my brain. Would I be able to convince any of the Shifter leaders to join me in battle? And if I did, what chance would my army have against my father’s sizable forces?
But somehow the thought that occupied me the most was what I would do when—not if—I reclaimed the Avalonian throne. I had to make sure war wasn’t a threat again, which most likely meant disarming my father one way or another. Killing him was my last wish, even considering what he had done prior to this point in time. He was still my father, and somewhere beneath the power-hungry dictator, I believed there could be at least a trace of good. Of reason.
If I could only show him what I had seen.
Brendan inhaled deeply through his nose, coughed, and rolled over. His arm slipped away from me, and in his sleep, he pulled the blanket off me. I didn’t mind. The chilly air didn’t bother me, as I could always turn up my internal furnace a notch or two. I decided to let him sleep alone, and got up. Jen had shifted into her much more alert wolf form and sauntered up next to me as I strolled down to the water.
“I’ll just sit here for a while, luv,” I whispered and scratched her behind her ears. I remembered doing that for the first time, and how strange it had felt. A part of me had got used to not thinking of her as Jen when she was like this. Beneath the warm, white fur, she was still my dear friend. “We’ve come so far,” I sighed, “since we first met by the campus gate. I still can’t wrap my head around all that has happened.”
Jen’s ears pricked up, and she turned to look behind us.
I did too and let out a little chuckle. “She can hear you, but I don’t know if she can see or smell you.”
“Her senses are limited by the magic of the shadows,” Pullhelli’s voice said from inside the darkness that hovered over the grass. He emerged from the shadows, and Jen wagged her tail when he came over to greet her. “I had to let her hear me, lest she might think I was an attacker.”
The white wolf tilted her head at the Sorcerer, and I too was puzzled by his words. “You let her hear you? I don’t understand.”
“Inside the shadows, deep inside, you can be invisible even to the most delicate ears, eyes, and noses. Sorry, Jeannine, but not even your exquisite senses can pick up a Sorcerer who’s gone far enough into the darkness.” He pointed at me with his thumb. “Or a Sorceress.”
I sighed. “And by deep, you mean—?”
He didn’t reply. Not verbally, but his smile told me everything.
“I can’t,” I said. “They cry out for me, silently but still loud and clear. I fear them.”
“And understandably so. As I have told you before, however, there is so much to gain from learning to use the p
ower that resides there.”
A dragonfly hovered past us. In the dim glow from the dark sun, its wings still gave us a tiny glimpse of what it would look like had the sun shone like before. An array of colours danced over the ultrathin fabric that enabled it to fly out over the lake. At first, it stayed three or four feet above the inky surface, before it descended into dangerous territory.
A memory appeared in the back of my mind, and for some reason, I threw a miniature force field after the insect. As it wrapped around the dragonfly, a fish jumped out of the water, gaping at its intended breakfast. I tugged at the force field, and in the quiet morning, the three of us on the shore could actually hear the snap of the fish’s jaws.
“Sorry,” I whispered and released the magic. “Now, fly away, you fool.”
Pullhelli blew a little laugh out of his nose. “You know, when I was a wee Sorcerer, growing up in the mountains of Mynydd Dewin, I used to dream of having wings. I imagined being able to soar into the skies, floating in and out of the clouds.”
“I know. I’ve had the same dream. And to be honest, it hasn’t exactly died after I arrived here and can witness first hand all the Fae with their magnificent wings.”
“I can’t give you the ability to fly, child,” my great-uncle said, staring out over the lake. “But what if I told you that you’d be able to soar across this lake just like that dragonfly?”
Glancing at Jen, I had to stifle a laugh. I had never seen a wolf furrow its brow before.
Pullhelli stood. “Come, I’ll show you.”
“Into the shadows, you mean?”
“Indeed. It’s time you learned the secrets of the darkest magic. Only then can you truly balance the light and dark within yourself. They both depend on the other. After all, there can be no light without darkness.”
Hesitantly, I rose to my feet. “I’m not sure.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “I am, and you will be. Trust me.” He pointed at the ground, where a vague outline of his shadow was drawn on the withering grass. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“Then join me.”
Hesitantly, I stepped into his shadow, and allowed the obsidian cloud to swallow me, wrapping us both in the darkness. Behind him, through the familiar veil of black and grey, the white wolf stared intensely into the spot she had seen us vanish into.
“Can you hear them now?” Pullhelli asked. “The shadows’ call, I mean.”
“Yes. I can hear them almost all the time, but have learned to block them out when I’m not in them. Now, their silent song is just as clear as your voice.”
“Let them come.”
“I don’t think I can.”
Through the darkness, Pullhelli’s smile shone like a beacon. “That’s where the trust part comes into play.”
I blew out a breath. “Fine.”
Closing my eyes, I focused on the whispers. It was the same voiceless song I had avoided ever since I stepped into the shadows the very first time. In fact, I had heard it before I ever entered the darkness. It dawned on me. There had always been a darkness inside me. I had felt it before.
Images of burning corpses flashed before my inner eye. They screamed as they fell to the ground. Around them, a burning building. A church. My inner film turned into a farmhouse of sorts, littered with steel cages.
I had felt the darkness in me at both these places. In Jarl Colburn’s chapel-turned-auction hall and in the MagX facility of the corrupt policemen, led by the horrible Mordred. When I had burned him, and several of Colburn’s men, I’d felt it.
And I had wanted it. Felt the urge to hurt them, and justified it by their actions.
“Let the shadows come,” Pullhelli whispered.
“They’re already here,” I replied.
Something cold wrapped around my right wrist. I opened my eyes and looked down. My hand was enveloped in the dark, smoky tendrils that reached out from the black void below. I had seen that kind of void before, but couldn’t focus enough to remember where.
Panic gripped me suddenly and I let out a silent scream.
My hand!
It was gone. Most of my forearm to just below the elbow joint was simply gone. I gasped, and tried to pull back, but the long, slinking fingers of the darkness kept creeping further up my arm. It was feeding on me!
“Let me go!” I shouted, but the words were muffled and hardly reached my ears.
“Come!” A raspy, growling voice entered my head. “Come, Ruby. It’s safe. Come!”
“No!” I screamed again, loudly this time, desperately trying to pull my arm away from the flesh-eating smoke. It was drifting closer to my upper arm now.
An arm grabbed me around my chest, pulling hard. I fell backwards.
Out of the shadows. Above me, Pullhelli’s face hovered next to Jen’s. She was back in her human form.
“It’s over,” she said. “You’re safe, Ru.”
“Wh—what—how?”
“You thought you were being sucked into the shadows, didn’t you?” Pullhelli said, more than asked. “That’s normal.”
“Normal?” I pushed his arm off my neck and got back on my feet. “Normal? It was eating my fudging arm!”
He held his palms out defensively. “That’s exactly how it feels before you let yourself be completely and fully a part of them. It’s how it’s meant to be.”
I shook my head. “No way! I’m not going to dissolve into some cloudy, smoky thing. Whatever magic is down there—if down is the right word—can stay there for all I care.”
“I think we can end today’s training,” my great-uncle said.
“Two things,” I said, ticking them off with my fingers. “One, you’re bloody well right about ending training. Two, you can cut the amusement in your voice right now. And that’s your queen ordering you!” I turned on my heel and marched away, fuming so bad the grass under my feet caught on fire. I didn’t care.
“What’s up?” Brendan asked as I dumped down next to him. He rubbed his eyes and rested his upper body on his elbow.
“And here’s you, sleeping like nothing is wrong in the world.”
“Whoa, back off a mile or two, will ya?”
I wanted to apologise, but couldn’t be arsed. So, there was a darkness inside me. Big deal. For now, they could all watch that part of me. I lay down and rolled over, my back to Brendan.
“Go back to sleep, Swordmaster. We leave for Gwyntali in an hour.”
Chapter Seventeen
Chatter sounded through the trees as we closed in on the Gwyntali village. Loud voices and a choir of responses followed, growing stronger as we exited the treeline. I halted for a moment as I surveyed the scene in front of us.
There had to be hundreds of people here, as opposed to the fifty-something wolves I remembered. Were these all wolves? Men and women, both young and old, sat or stood in clusters across the village. At the far end, on the top of a makeshift podium of stone, stood Naheena and two men, one of whom towered over the others. His broad chin and broader shoulders enhanced his square frame. His head was shaved on each side, leaving one straight line of black hair in the middle. Angular tattoos mapped out his chiselled face, and when he spoke, two needle-sharp canines glinted in his mouth.
“Who’s that?” I whispered.
Pullhelli leaned closer. “That would be Zuwar Gwyll, the packmaster of the largest pack of wolves in all of Gwyn Fanon. That is the man you need on your side. If you can persuade him, the rest of the wolves will follow.”
“What about the other one?” I asked, motioning towards the smaller man. His face was wide with apple cheeks and a pointy nose.
“That would be Fernan Jorvis. The chieftain of the Fox clans.”
Another man entered the stage. This man was bigger still than Zuwar Gwyll, with a large potbelly and an oval head. Wearing nothing but a brown loincloth, he reminded me of a sumo wrestler. The woman was about the same size, and I pegged her for his mate.
“Leader of t
he bears?” I asked.
“Indeed. Looks like most of the Changeling leaders are present,” Pullhelli noted.
We edged closer, moving through the crowd. I wasn’t sure what everyone was, but an educated guess brought me to believe there were all sorts of Shifters here: wolves, bears, foxes, lions, stags, and eagles, among others I couldn’t name. Two familiar faces turned to me, and I broke into a smile.
Jack and Erica waved at us. I wanted to go to them and give them both a hug, but it would have to wait, so I waved back and mouthed “later”. The two Shifters nodded, and Jack pointed his thumb at the stage. They would understand. Before we could have our reunion, I had to talk to the leaders.
“We must act.” Naheena’s voice rang out.
Zuwar shook his head while the fox chieftain was the one to reply. “We have stayed neutral this long, why get involved now?” he squeaked.
“The Sorcerer King has no business in Talani,” the bear leader grumbled. “Nothing good can come of this.”
Naheena turned to the crowd. “It is only a matter of time before he invades us, too. The king has pronounced himself as the one true ruler of all of Gwyn Fanon. Are we not a part of that? He will come, and when he does, we must be prepared, or we will lose. Many will die, or worse—be enslaved. Did Morgana free the slaves and die only for us to rest on our haunches while Auberon suffocates the world around us? Did she sacrifice her life for nothing? I for one will not wait for the day to come when we are not prepared to face the enemy.”
The mention of Morgana’s name gave me pause, but I was happy to see that Naheena was already on my side in this. Whether she would join me in battle on Avalonian soil or intended to face my father in Talani, I wasn’t sure, but at least she was willing to fight.
Fernan cleared his throat. “We are all grateful for Morgana’s sacrifice, Naheena, but don’t you think you are being a little dramatic?”
Zuwar grumbled something under his breath and patted Fernan on his shoulder, sending the chieftain two steps forward on impact.
The crowd murmured amongst themselves as Naheena’s eyes found mine. Her lips quirked up. “I see we’ve got company. Royalty, no less.”