A Blackbird In Darkness (Book 2)

by Freda Warrington

  More memories. Medrian, commanding a demon to depart as if she were its master, chasing a sinister black horse away as though it were death come to claim her. Medrian in Gastada’s castle, horribly tortured…

  That recollection made him start, and draw her protectively closer to him. She woke up then and looked at him, and for once he was able to hold her gaze without feeling fear. There was an expression in her face and dark grey eyes that he had never seen before, a tenuous serenity.

  ‘If I had a wish,’ she said, ‘I would like to stay here forever.’

  ‘So would I,’ he replied softly.

  But as it is, she thought, these few hours will have to be enough... enough for my whole life. Oh, what have I done? I may have made it impossible for the Quest ever to be completed. I tried, I did try... but I am human. And perhaps I’ve condemned the world to hell, because I wasn’t strong enough to resist the need for happiness. I’m a fool, I don’t know what I’ve done. But I don’t care. Whatever else M’gulfn can do, it can never deprive me of these few hours.

  She kissed him with tenderness he would not have believed her capable of a few weeks earlier.

  ‘Estarinel,’ she began softly, ‘no one ever saw anything in me worth loving before. I still don’t know what you see. I tried so hard to make you dislike me – that was for a reason which I can’t tell you, but which you’ll eventually know and understand. It was important, but all the same, I just didn’t try hard enough.’ She swallowed, trying to steady her voice.

  ‘Medrian,’ Estarinel began, but she silenced him.

  ‘Please listen, while I’m still able to say it. It’s not your fault. You did as I asked. It was my strength that failed... but I’m glad. I didn’t realise until last night that I loved you, or that I was even capable of love. This is the only good moment I’ve ever had in my life; can you understand that? Because of you.’

  ‘Then I’m glad too,’ he said very quietly, dreading what he was sure she would say next.

  ‘But now I must face the fact that I may have doomed the Quest to failure. My fault, not yours, as I said... but there is some hope left, and I swear it is our only hope – and it depends on you as well. I have to ask you something very difficult.’

  ‘Go on,’ he prompted gently, seeing how anxious she was about his reaction.

  ‘When we leave Forluin, and especiaIly when we leave H’tebhmella,’ she said, willing herself to hold his gaze, ‘things must be exactly as they were before, as if we hardly know each other. You must try to forget that you loved me – because I will not have any choice.’ He said nothing. She forced herself to continue. ‘But if you do truly love me…’

  ‘You know I do,’ he whispered, stroking her hair.

  ‘I have something even worse to say. The time may come when I ask you to do something that seems terrible; know that it is not without good reason. You must give me your word that you will comply and not protest. I do not ask this lightly. Please promise these things – otherwise the Quest will fail.’

  ‘Medrian, Medrian,’ he sighed. ‘It’s all right. I give you my word. What choice do I have? Perhaps the Quest is doomed anyway, but without you I could never have continued it, and I will never, ever knowingly let you down.’ After a minute he felt her relax in his arms.

  ‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘How could I doubt you?’

  ‘Is that why you came with me, to make sure I didn’t lose my nerve?’ he asked with a smile.

  ‘Only partly,’ she answered honestly. ‘There were many reasons, some I didn’t even know about... Don’t let us think of the future now. We still have a few hours in Forluin.’

  And it was mercifully easy, Estarinel found, to forget her ominous words and the chilling promise he had had to make, just for the time being. At the same time, a new strength began to grow in him. She had saved him from despair and madness, and surely he owed her something in return – at least to help make the future less black than she expected it to be. She had helped him bear the loss of his family – and now there was almost no one left, he became determined that he would not lose her also. That would be a loss beyond bearing.

  #

  Falin noticed, later that morning, how much better Estarinel seemed. Not happy, but he had a tranquil resignation about him. Wryly Falin realised that he and Medrian were more to each other than just companions on a journey. Obviously Medrian’s apparent coldness was deceptive and she had been able to comfort and help him after all; but Falin still wondered if Estarinel was making a mistake in trusting her. Or, he thought, do I just resent the fact that a stranger could console him when I couldn’t?

  As they ate breakfast he apologised for the poor quality of the bread; much of their farmland had been ruined. Medrian replied that all the same, it was the best bread she had ever tasted, and she smiled at him; the effect was like spring sunshine after a long winter, lighting up her face with warmth of character that made him think he really had been wrong about her.

  It was still early and there were only a few people about in the village. The sun was warming the air and coaxing soft colours from the stone cottages. Estarinel waited until there was a lull in village activity and went back to the long stone barn to take a last look at his family. Falin and Medrian walked up with him, and waited outside.

  As he went in, a terrible memory of the previous evening gripped Medrian like a steel hand on her throat. She staggered, reaching out to the barn wall to steady herself. How could she have forgotten! The perfect, undecaying bodies – the hideous evil of the Worm – she struggled with herself, turning her back on Falin so he could not see the pain in her face.

  There was no need to say anything to Estarinel, she decided. It was only a feeling, after all, probably unfounded. No need to cause him further pain by revealing something that might only exist in her imagination. That decision made, she tried to put it from her mind.

  ‘Medrian, are you all right?’ Falin asked.

  Long years of practice enabled her to make her face quite emotionless as she turned round and said, ‘Will the bodies be buried?’

  Falin started at the unexpected, almost callous, question.

  ‘No, no,’ he answered thickly, ‘there’s an Elder who cares for the dead – every village has one. The bodies are brushed with powders and herbs that keep them whole. They stay in the place of rest – we normally use a much smaller building – until their families and loved ones release them. Then they are taken to a certain hill, where they turn to dust – return to the earth and sky. But there are usually just a few of the very old. Not like this…’

  ‘I see,’ she said shortly. Falin stared at her, mistrust welling up again. She was an enigma; she frightened him. He was glad when Estarinel reappeared, because he had the illogical feeling that the darkness of her eyes would consume him if he stayed alone with her for much longer.

  As they began to walk down the grassy slope back towards the cottage, he decided to speak before his uneasiness about Medrian made him reverse the decision he had come to the night before.

  ‘E’rinel, I’ve something to ask you. I thought very carefully about it last night, and…’ Falin suddenly found himself unable to explain why he felt so strongly that he must take his friend’s place on the Quest. He only said, ‘Let me go instead of you.’

  Estarinel and Medrian both stopped and stared at him. Medrian’s eyes widened and a thrill of grim hope made her catch her breath. That could be the answer, she thought. Falin doesn’t like me; it would be easy, so easy to make him hate me. Estarinel and I could part here, now, and save all that doubt and pain – but even as she thought it, she knew it was impossible.

  ‘Oh, Falin,’ Estarinel sighed, placing his hands on his friend’s shoulders. ‘I understand – I know it’s hard to stay here, and watch me go away again. I would feel the same. But I have to go. I was chosen in the first place, and even though it was a random choice at the time, it was a final one. I set out on the Quest, and I have to finish it,’ He shook his head sad
ly. ‘I know I shouldn’t have come back. Oh, Falin, I’m sorry if I’ve made things harder for you. But you are needed here.’

  Falin nodded with grim acceptance.

  ‘I think I knew you’d say that,’ he smiled sadly. ‘There may not be much hope for Forluin, but while you are on your journey, you can be sure we’ll be doing everything possible to fight the Serpent here as well. That I swear.’

  They went back into the cottage, but there did not seem to be much left to say, and soon Estarinel began to feel it was best if they said goodbye and began the long walk back to Trevilith Woods. So they said their farewells, and Estarinel added, ‘Give my love to Lili, when you see her – oh, on second thoughts, don’t. It’s better that she doesn’t know I’ve been back. I don’t think anyone but you has seen me. So don’t tell anyone, not even her.’

  Falin nodded, knowing it would be painful to be unable to tell her – and that Lilithea would be deeply hurt if she ever found out.

  ‘Fare you well,’ he said. He and Estarinel embraced like brothers who would never meet again. Then Falin placed a hand on Medrian’s shoulder and looked into her eyes and said, ‘Take care of him for me.’ She smiled faintly and nodded.

  ‘Fare you well also,’ Estarinel said. He took Medrian’s hand and Falin stood at the corner of his aunt’s cottage, watching them walk from the edge of the village, across a meadow, and into the cover of trees until he could no longer see them.

  Then Falin went into the living room and sat still for a long time, so shaken he was unable to think or feel anything. Eventually, still numb, he dragged himself from the cottage to join the others going about their farming work, trying to convince himself that nothing had happened, that his world had not been thrown into turmoil yet again.

  #

  Estarinel went by a different route back to Trevilith Woods, avoiding even a distant glimpse of the Bowl Valley. A lone bird called sadly, like a bell tolling, as they trudged between the trees. Medrian was silent, and seemed very calm, almost sleepy. She kept looking around at the trees and sky and earth as if they were the last things she would ever see.

  ‘It is still beautiful, even now,’ Estarinel said. ‘There’s a spirit in this land that cannot easily be destroyed.’

  ‘And in its people,’ Medrian said with a gentle smile. ‘Especially in its people.’

  Now they were at the place in the woods where the Entrance Point would intercept them. They stood waiting calmly, but when it appeared, a distant cloud of blue light floating slowly towards them, Medrian turned to Estarinel and hugged him fervently.

  ‘Oh, forgive me for the future,’ she cried, almost in tears. ‘Remember that I love you, even if I can’t tell you again. This has meant everything to me... I have hope for you, if not for myself. For myself, I wish only for peace…’

  He returned the embrace, kissing her dark hair, not knowing what to say. The Entrance Point was almost upon them and he suddenly felt terrible regret that they had to go through and continue the Quest, that time would not stand still for them. Hand in hand they prepared to step into the void, but just before they did so, Medrian looked at him with a radiant light in her face he had never seen before and probably would never see again. She had finally found words to express what she felt.

  ‘I was alive here,’ she said.

  #

  Even as Ashurek and Calorn span through blackness, Calorn was trying desperately to orientate herself. Upwards – the malevolent gale was bearing them upwards. With increased dread she realised that they were about to be expelled from the Dark Regions. She gagged with the effort of calling out a warning to Ashurek; but she could not make a sound.

  Particles battered them, like stones caught in a hurricane. They were forced at painful speed through a moist fleshy tube, then through some dense substance like liquefied rubber. Gasping for breath they emerged from it and were flung through air and then against rock. Calorn caught the briefest glimpse of an infinite black swamp some forty feet below, before the dark wind thrust them upwards into a fistula of rock.

  They were in the passage that led to H’tebhmella. Probably without the dark energy to lift them through the air they would never have regained it, but now that power also seemed intent on destroying them. It was forcing them through the narrow tunnel at agonizing speed; and they were helpless to slow down. The rock tore at their limbs and hands, ripped their clothing and abraded their skin. Calorn lost consciousness long before they were expelled, like battered dolls thrown by a child, onto the surface of H’tebhmella.

  She didn’t know how long they lay there before they were discovered. Almost at once, it seemed, someone was bathing her face with sweet, cool water. With unspeakable relief she gulped in clean air, and opened her eyes to find Filitha, a dark-haired H’tebhmellian woman, bending over her in concern. Slowly her eyes focused on the gentle faces, pale robes and silken hair of several more H’tebhmellians. They thronged around the pillar of rock that contained the tunnel from the Dark Regions. Ashurek was already on his feet. Beside him stood the Lady herself; she seemed to be questioning him, but he only shook his head in grave reply.

  Calorn pulled herself to her feet with Filitha’s help. The Blue Plane’s healing power acted more swiftly on those in greatest need, and already the ache of her bruises was fading.

  ‘Ashurek, are you all right?’ she asked urgently. His clothes, like her own, were torn and blood-soaked, and he looked as exhausted and stricken as she felt. With relief she saw that H’tebhmella’s energy was swiftly restoring him, but he did not answer her, and the look in his eyes was so distant and so grim that she recoiled. She felt the pillar of rock pressing into her back, Filitha’s hand on her arm. The H’tebhmellians were all gazing at Calorn and Ashurek in silent curiosity.

  Among them she saw Estarinel and Medrian, equally perplexed.

  Into the eerie silence the Lady said quietly, ‘Ashurek, Calorn, do you feel well enough to offer me some explanation of what has occurred?’

  Recovering her self-possession, Calorn began, ‘Yes, my Lady, we…’ but trailed off as she saw the Lady’s expression. It was not gentle; it was stern, and sternness in that pure face shone forth with crystal clarity. It unnerved her more than Ashurek’s severe silence. She muttered, ‘Do you really need to ask?’

  There was a terrible light in the Lady’s eyes, as clear as diamond and as hard and precise. Her tall form seemed to be clad in a mantle of icy light.

  ‘I realise that your purpose was to rescue Silvren. The miracle is that you have returned with relatively little harm to yourselves and H’tebhmella. Ashurek, I had thought I could place trust in you. I can hardly believe I was so wrong. I understand why you felt compelled to go, but surely you must have known that the task was utterly impossible. Why then did you attempt it?’

  Still Ashurek did not speak, as if pain and misery had gone too deep within him for words.

  ‘You have put the Blue Plane at terrible risk,’ the Lady went on, her voice a ringing a steel bell. ‘I think you do not appreciate just how great the danger was. The Shana might have sent a destructive power after you that would have damaged H’tebhmella for all time, and your passage through the Plane would have made it possible. Did you not perceive it? Does it mean nothing to you?’ Her adamantine face was daunting, but Ashurek only glowered back, the pain in his verdant eyes equally formidable.

  ‘I will not expel you from the Blue Plane. You will be permitted to remain until the Quest departs, but under sufferance, and only because the Quest is so essential. I see you are not repentant. Ashurek, will you not tell me what befell?’ There was a beseeching echo in these last words, but the Gorethrian still did not respond. As if her words were no more than cobwebs destroyed by rain, he gave her one last baleful look, then strode away. The H’tebhmellians fell back to let him pass, and he was soon out of sight among the rocks.

  The Lady turned to Calorn. ‘I hardly need to ask – it is clearly readable in your eyes – that you were fully aware of how dange
rous and wrong your actions were. And yet, instead of trying to stop him, you used the very skills on which the Quest depends to help him. You put in jeopardy not only your life and his, but the very future of the Earth. Calorn, I trusted your judgment implicitly! What did you hope to achieve?’

  Calorn felt she was facing a cold and pure wind that must surely destroy her inferior substance, destroy the loathsome part of her that had lusted for Limir’s death. But somehow she held the fragments of herself together and replied with all the warmth and honesty in her soul, ‘My Lady, you know the answer. I am human. Perhaps I have more idealism than sense. I could not stop Ashurek, but with my help, I believed we had a chance. Without me, he would have found his way there anyway, and he would have been killed!’

  The Lady nodded gravely, waiting for her to continue. Suddenly tears sprang into Calorn’s eyes as she added, ‘My Lady, the rescue was so nearly successful...’

  Gently, the Lady prompted her, ‘I think you should tell us exactly what happened.’

  Fighting the excruciating revulsion and misery with which the memory of those events filled her, Calorn did so. Estarinel and Medrian listened in appalled silence.

  ‘It was Silvren’s own decision not to come back,’ Calorn concluded. ‘The Shana have done something terrible to her. They have convinced her that she is evil, and must never again taint the Blue Plane or the Earth with her presence. Do you wonder that Ashurek has nothing to say to you after that?’

  The Lady’s clear eyes were shining with distilled grief. ‘Ah, Calorn, I cannot fully express the sorrow I feel for Silvren’s plight. Yet you have proved that the time for her rescue is not yet ripe. Until the Serpent dies, no shortcuts can be taken. Do you understand why I was angry?’

  ‘Yes, my Lady,’ Calorn answered. ‘Yet I would do the same again. Therefore I feel that I should resign from your service.’