Blindsighted Wanderer

by E. Hibbs

Merrin’s Tale

  T he Elitland passed by Raphael in a haze of indecipherable colours and shapes. He had ridden all night without pause. Nalina had spoken the truth: the donkey was fast, although it hadn’t taken long for Raphael to start feeling pain from trying to ride. He had to keep his long legs tucked tightly up to avoid tripping the animal, and it had earned him several painful cramps in his thighs, but he hadn’t dared waste a moment to stop and ease them.

  When the dawn was just beginning to lighten the sky in the east, he passed Cedarham, and the donkey jumped down the terrace to clear the waterfall. It landed with a jolt and Raphael howled as he slammed down hard onto its back. But he smacked its rump, encouraging it to keep going. It squealed in protest, but didn’t slow, until it stopped so suddenly that Raphael almost flew over its head.

  They had arrived at the oak tree that he had sheltered in during his first night in search of Silas. But now, one of the branches had snapped clean off – probably taken by the winds of the last few days – and was lying across the path, completely blocking it.

  “Nay!” Raphael cried, looking around frantically for another route. There was no other choice than to run downriver until he had cleared the branch.

  He quickly turned the donkey and crashed into the water. It rose up to the animal’s shoulders even in the shallows, so Raphael slowed to a walk, not wanting to risk toppling in the current. The pull of the river was stronger than what he was used to at Fanchlow.

  He chewed his lip anxiously, carefully directing the donkey around the boughs that had landed in the river. It slipped, and both of them yelped in shock, but then the donkey righted itself and made back towards the shallows. Raphael tried to hurry it again, but it was exhausted from the run, and determined to walk for a little while. So with an exasperated sigh, Raphael jumped off its back, landing with a splash beside it, and jogged ahead, trying to spur it on and back onto the bank.

  Something suddenly shot out of the water in a shower of spray, and slammed into him. He felt arms wrap tightly around his waist before he tumbled back, and the river closed over him. Water shot up his nose. A burst of light exploded around him, and he threw up his arms to shield his eyes, struggling madly. He felt his shoulders hit the stony bed, and then the river dropped down around him, until the air had returned.

  Raphael sat bolt upright, soaked to the skin, and coughed up a mouthful of water. He shook his head, sending droplets flying in all directions, and then wiped at his eyes. When he opened them, he started in alarm.

  All around him was forest: silver birches, hazels and willows; moss and amarant lay on the ground, laced with diamond dewdrops that sparkled in the freshly-born dawn. Underneath him was a small beach, covered with tiny grey pebbles, and on the far side of it, underneath the sweeping bowers of a giant hazel, lay boats. There was a grooved path in the shingle, where one had recently been pushed from the others, and as his eyes followed it, he saw the Lakeshore.

  “Zandor? What in the name of Heaven...?” he muttered, staring at the lapping waves on the shore. Then he heard a rapid gasping for breath nearby, and spun around. “Merrin?”

  The Asræ was lying on her side, suspended on top of the water in the shallows. Her long hair was splayed out across the Surface, white light shining from beneath her. Her chest heaved and the gill slits on her neck were flapping uselessly as she fought for air like a landed fish. She was facing away from him, but the Band around one of her wrists was clearly visible.

  Raphael crawled quickly around to her other side, sinking into the soft mud under the water. Her sparkling eyes were unfocused and her fin flickering softly. She didn’t seem weak or injured – just exhausted.

  “Oh, God! Merrin!” Raphael breathed, feeling the blood draining from his face as he knelt over the Princess.

  She raised an arm and motioned towards the shore. “Cave. Please,” she said breathlessly. “Hurry!”

  Not waiting for anything more – and all too aware of the closeness of sunrise – Raphael quickly slipped his hands underneath her and lifted her up. She flattened her fin against her back to make it easier for him, and once he had her, she pointed again.

  “There,” she said. “Go, quickly! Go!”

  He nodded, splashing out of the Lake. Merrin was feather-light in his arms, and she curled into him, already cowering in anticipation of the light. Raphael noticed the cave she had mentioned, although he could tell it wasn’t the same one they had sheltered in before. In fact, this seemed like a completely different area of the Lake. But he didn’t pause to investigate, and ran for the mouth.

  As they approached, Merrin said something that sounded like, “Wash out for taweb.”

  “What?” Raphael asked, but then exclaimed in shock as he entered the cave and something sticky suddenly clung to his face. He set Merrin down in the shadows near the back, and she gave a frustrated sigh as he began wiping it away.

  “I said, watch out for the web,” she replied.

  Raphael smeared his hands on his clothes, kneeling at her side. “Are you alright?” he asked, inspecting her face. “Are you hurt?”

  “I am fine,” said Merrin – and already, she did seem better. Her eyes strayed back towards the outside world just as the sun streamed its light over Delamere. Her gills pressed calmly down over her neck and stayed there.

  “Just in time,” she muttered, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Perfect timing... on both your part, and mine.” She glanced at him. “Thank you.”

  Raphael frowned. “The river... was that you?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “But... I thought you could not leave the Lake?” he stammered.

  “It was for a moment, and under cover of darkness. That has little ill effect,” she explained quickly, holding a hand to her forehead in what seemed like relief. “Ah, what power that demanded of me! I am so glad I managed it.”

  Raphael shook his head in confusion. “I do not understand,” he said. “How... why did you –”

  Merrin looked at him. “I did it because I stood on the Lake and went to other water of some form. I could not have done it on land,” she said. “And I had to do it. You were in grave danger. After all you have done for me, I could not bear to have you come to harm.”

  Raphael’s wonder and gratitude clouded over. “But... my family!” he cried. “I was going to my family, they were also in danger! How could you prevent me from going to them?”

  “They are fine,” Merrin assured, laying a hand on his arm. “Silas got to them first, he rescued them. If you had carried on, then you would have blundered straight into a risk for your life, believe me.”

  Raphael stared at her. “Silas?”

  “Yes. Do not worry.”

  He decided to not ask her how she had known what was going on; she had already told him the Asræ were capable of powerful magic. But it did little to quell his anger at her, for preventing him from helping his family. Even though annoyance was an emotion he was unable to express as intensely as Silas, out of the few occasions when Raphael had let it show, none felt as heartfelt and obvious as now.

  Merrin realised it immediately. “They are all safe, I sense it. And Silas knows that you are here, or he shall know soon. He will come for you,” she told him. “Trust my knowledge.”

  Raphael pulled away from her roughly. “Why should I trust you?” he growled. He was shocked at himself as he heard the words coming out of his mouth, but he didn’t stop them. “I know what you’ve done. I pieced together the fragments that I have learned, to realise it, but I know it.”

  As he spoke, Merrin’s face changed, like a stone being dropped into a millpond. It had become both her old stony glare, and also a melancholy expression full of shame and pain. She met his eyes.

  “You killed my forefather, Adrian Atégo, and brought down the curse on my family,” Raphael said. “All this time, two hundred years, it’s all been your doing.”

  Merrin nodded once. “That is correct,” she said, and then covered
her face with her hands. Her fin waved gently, sending a shivering sound into the air. “Yes, it is correct that I did what you say. But do not leap to conclusions, I beg of you. There is more to the story than what you imagine there to be.”

  “I know he was in love with you,” Raphael said. He stormed over to the cave mouth and stood with his back to her, but occasionally looked over his shoulder. “I know that he loved you so much that he forsook his wife for you. I do not applaud him for disloyalty to her, mark me. But despite his feelings, you brought down a curse on him. She took her own life; all of his male heirs have suffered.”

  He watched her intently, but his eyes grew soft with desperation, and his voice dwindled to a wretched whisper. “Merrin... why?”

  Merrin bit her lips; then rose fluidly to her feet. She clasped her hands, the Bands side by side over her stomach. “Raphael, I owe you much more than you will ever know,” she said slowly. “The least I may do for you now is to tell what happened from my own perspective. There are two sides to every story, you understand. My own in this one has much reason for my actions. Please let me explain them.”

  They looked at each other for what seemed like an age, but eventually he nodded and turned to face her fully.

  “Go on,” he said, trying to keep himself from shouting. But as he watched Merrin, he realised how difficult speaking of this was for her. Tears were brimming at the corners of her eyes – and the way her face had broken proved she had been holding them inside for longer than he could even comprehend.

  “I have never spoken of this to anybody,” she whispered, locking eyes with the ground. “Two hundred years ago, when my father – King Zephyr – still swam among us in Lacudomus, I was a rascal. I did not want to acknowledge the mantle that I knew I must one night take up in his stead.”

  She glanced at the Bands, and held up her arms to bear them to Raphael. The tears worked free and spilled down her cheeks. Beneath them, the light patterns slowed in their own miserable dance.

  “These were woven onto me just before he died, only a few months ago. But back then, in the year the humans may now know as 1013, I wanted to be free of their shadow for as long as possible. And although I was frolicsome, in my own mind, I was as free as it was possible for a Princess to be.

  “My downfall was Adrian,” she said, not moving an inch. “What you say about the love between us is twisted. Love was there, this is true; but only from one of us.

  “I loved him and wanted him to love me, and he saw that. He would come in the dead of night upon a white horse – yes, back then, it was horses – and meet with me, with words of flattery. He pretended to love me. Young and naive and frivolous as I was, I dared believe it.”

  She closed her eyes tightly. “And then, one night, he rowed out onto the Lake. I came to the Surface to greet him. I... came willingly, blind to what he meant to do until the nets were all around me. I saw his eyes, and there was no feeling in them. And in that moment, I saw that all he had said to me, all he had promised, were blank lies.

  “He wished to take me back to his own home, so that my company would feed his own greed and lust for fame and power. He tried to take me away from the Lake... he almost killed me. He knew what I was; who I was: a Princess, the future Queen. But he did not care. He cared only for himself.”

  She brought her gaze back to glance at Raphael. His face had changed drastically, etched deep with shock. “Because I had left the Lake willingly, I returned immediately, and never left it again until the next Rise,” she carried on, as though determined to not allow him to speak until all the wounds had bled clean. “But not before I punished him. I grasped his hands in mine and gave him the Brand: a magic that only the Monarchy may deal. It took his sight from him during the day, so that he could see only the darkness of night, and the darkness of his own flaws.

  “But it did not satisfy. As short as human lives are compared to ours, I wanted revenge for as long as he lived. So, with all I had learned from the Necromancer Dylana, I struck his health down with a long and painful sickness, so he would die in my grasp, as I would have died in his. I did nothing to him that he would not have done to me. The vengeance was sweet, but not sweet enough. A life as long as mine makes that so.”

  She hesitated. “So I... I let the sickness take his son, and after that, his grandson, and so on. I believed all Atégo men should pay for such high treason; anyone who could carry on that name. And I willed it so for as long as I was to live – thousands and thousands of years – taking the Atégos until whatever would end first: their line, or my life.”

  She screwed her eyes shut and held her face piteously, curling into herself. “I can read every gesture and thought as it runs through you now. You – and all humans – have come to believe the Asræ are evil and hating! But they are not! It is farce, by this lone bitter Heir who shaped it so!

  “I am so, so sorry,” she managed to choke out, voice shaking with sobs. “My dear Raphael, I have wronged your family for so long. But time has passed me by and... and you are not the man your ancestor was! And nor is your poor brother!”

  Raphael listened to all of this with shame and horror. He bit his lip and approached, hating to see her in such a state. He closed his arms around her, pulling her lithe body into an embrace. Through his soaking clothes, she felt freezing, and shook like a leaf. He rested his chin gently on the crown of her head.

  “What must you think of me?” she wept. “It would hurt me so, to know that you hate me for all I have done, but if that is the way; then it is no more than I deserve.”

  He shook his head gently, and spoke in a whisper. “Nay.”

  “The blood of generations and generations of innocents is on my hands. And for what? Vengeance upon a man who has long passed me by... as all humans will do eventually. I know they die sooner than it even takes me to match their physical equivalent of one year. When Adrian was alive, I appeared as no more than a fifteen-year old human girl. Two hundred years later, and tonight at the Rise, it will become that of a youth of seventeen years to you.”

  She cried out loudly. “A Queen is supposed to be just! I could not bring myself to do untainted justice even before I was given the Bands!”

  “But all learn from mistakes,” Raphael said. “Even Queens.”

  “Can you ever forgive me, for all I have done to your family?” Merrin breathed.

  He rested his hand gently on the back of her neck, and felt her fin quiver softly. Then he ran his other fingers up her arm to cup her cheek. He held her face away slightly, thumbs just below her eyes. One of them wiped away a tear.

  “If you will forgive us,” he said. “I blame you not for what you did to Adrian. But you admit the innocence of his descendants. So free us of the curse. Please, Merrin. Canst thou do this?”

  Their gazes locked as though fused with iron chains. Raphael could feel the hope, and the trust in her; that adoration that he felt towards this beautiful, unreachable being. Merrin’s huge purple eyes burned into him, shining with their own inner light. She laid one hand over his, the other on his neck.

  “I can,” she replied. “But I shall not.”

  Raphael started in alarm, but she grasped at him.

  “Not now,” she explained quickly. “No, it shall require power – great magic from me – and all Asræ are weaker during the day. Stay here with me until night. Then, all of us will come forth, to the Rise – to age under the full moon that is closest to Midsummer.”

  She paused, and directed his eyes to the amarant-coated island in the middle of the Lake. “And besides all this, I wish you to see us in all our glory, Raphael. When I brought you back here, I returned to this cave, near the north of Zandor – for I wish you to see me go there, to Coronation Mount, and receive my new title as Her voice. Will you do this?”

  Raphael paused for a moment before smiling deeply, brushing a final tear from her chin. Then he brought his face close, and kissed her forehead.

  “Of course.”

  CHAPTER XXVII<
br />
  The Backbone of Love

  2nd day of Jyuli.

  O dear Lady and Lord! What horrid happenings are these that befall us? Silas is vanished! Quite completely, there is no sign of him anywhere, and Uncle’s mount is also missing! Did Silas take the horse? But why and for what purpose? O what does go on to-nighte? I must go and find out whatever the matter can be!

  *

  As soon as they arrived near the pasture house – after creeping through the cow herd – Silas hammered on the door. Mekina opened it immediately, took one look at him, and then flung her arms around him with such force that she knocked him over.

  “Sorry! I’m sorry! Oh, Silas, dear God, where have you been? What happened to you?” she moaned into his shoulder.

  Silas grasped her arms and held her away. “Where’s Raph? Is he here with you?”

  Mekina frowned. “Of course he is not.”

  Silas stared at her, and then pushed her off him, scrambling up. “Then where is he?” he demanded, reaching down to help his sister to her feet before beginning to check Araena over for injuries.

  “What happened?” Mekina asked.

  “They don’t like us anymore!” wailed Uriel, his face reddened with tears. “They were throwing things at us and... and they were calling us names and telling us to go!”

  Silas didn’t speak again until he had seen to everybody, including Mekina. Everyone was shaken and muttering between themselves, but he silenced them with a single look.

  Araena suddenly noticed his calloused palm. “Si, your hand...” she started, but he quickly cut her off, pressing it against his leg.

  “Where is he?” he asked again. “Raphael. Why is he not here with you?”

  “He set off days ago, to find you!” explained Selena. “He went to the south, because you took a net; he went to the lakes.”

  Silas’ knees wobbled. “What?”

  “What else could he have done?” Mekina said. “We were worried about you so! How did you not see him, on your way back here from the south?”