Grace of the Light

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Grace of the Light Page 6

by Fergal F. Nally


  Jax looked down in wonder and fear. What was this thing? Why had it come to his home? He knew instantly; Raine. She had a past, one he needed to know. There could be more of these things. This time he was lucky, he had been prepared, this was his territory. Next time would be different. The barking stopped, he looked up. Kit was down, his breathing shallow and rapid.

  Jax leapt across the pit and crouched beside his dog.

  “Fool dog, what have you done to yourself?” Jax whispered softly rubbing the dog’s head, he held Kit close and wept. Kit licked his face, then breathed his last.

  Jax shuddered and buried his face in Kit’s fur.

  ~

  Raine walked through the night.

  She paid no attention to her tiredness, she forced herself on. Her feet ached, her lungs burned, the terrain had changed and at last the ground was rising. She was in the Jacta Arx foothills. She could see the mountains rising in the distance, like broken teeth. It was two hours to sunrise. She staggered through the darkest hour, hoping Jax was still alive. If that thing caught up with her she would not survive, it was taking all her energy to keep moving. One good thing, her side ached less, the knight’s bane was still working its magic.

  A cry rent the air ahead, she froze.

  Wolf?

  But not quite wolf, maybe human? She steeled herself, she was heading into mountain country. What did she expect? The mountains were home to wolves, they would keep their distance unless hungry; there would be better game than her scrawny carcass.

  The next two hours passed in a blur of pain and determination. First light came and went, the land’s features revealed themselves to her. The early morning shadows were long, her breath frosted the air. She had to stop, her muscles were cramping. She was cold and hungry, she needed a fire. She looked around and saw an overhang where she could shelter. She gathered wood and kindling and started to make a fire.

  With flint and steel she soon had a fire going, her bone weary body soaked up its heat. She turned her attention to her hunger and brought out some of Jax’s cured meat and a hunk of stale bread from her bag. She chewed on the meat then looked up and froze. A large wolf was staring at her on the other side of the fire, its eyes bored into her, its gaze steady. Raine reached slowly for her blade. The wolf watched her then looked away and loped off through the undergrowth.

  Raine stared after the wolf her mouth open. What was it doing so low off the mountain this time of year? Why had it shown no sign of fear? Questions flooded her mind. She tried to relax and finish her meal. This was not right, she was walking into danger. She looked uneasily at the trees, a drop landed on her cheek… that was all she needed. A few splatters of rain hit her fire causing it to sizzle.

  She leant forwards and threw more wood on the flames. The rain fell heavily for some time before degenerating into a persistent drizzle. Raine decided to rest under the overhang, she was exhausted and could go no further. The day would unfold, she kept her blade close.

  Raine dozed beside the fire, she was vulnerable, but she could not fight her fatigue and before long sleep claimed her. She was back at the Festival of Saoin in Farne. She’d been so happy that day with her family celebrating Falinor’s bounty. Severin and Ash had joined the other men in their hunting trial. Ash had been so excited; her dream unfolded as if real and she heard again the shouts of joy and encouragement as the trial progressed. Marianne stood beside her in the sunshine watching the action, fascinated. A cloud obscured the sun, the dream’s atmosphere changed, foreboding filled Raine. She looked down at her daughter. Marianne’s back was to her, her shoulders quivering with laughter, she turned.

  Raine froze. Marianne’s face was gone, in its place was a skull, with yellowed teeth.

  “Why did you leave us mother? Why did you leave me… and Ash? Why?”

  Raine looked at her daughter and felt pressure building in her chest. It grew until she could restrain it no longer. She opened her mouth and let out a silent scream, it shattered her soul.

  Her dream started to implode, darkness chasing light.

  She woke in shock, disorientated, afraid. It was evening, her fire was dead, the rain had stopped. She stared at the ashes thinking of her murdered family, her heart an open wound. She wept with a mother’s passion for Ash and Marianne. She grieved for her husband and lover, Severin. She wept until her soul was dry, her spirit withered, until she could weep no more. She was an empty vessel cursed with life. Then the questions returned. Why had she survived? Why had the Simulacrum attacked? What had her people done to deserve this?

  An abyss opened within her. She realised it was her own madness, she would welcome the protection and comfort of insanity. No one could hurt her if she was insane. She held and rocked herself making whimpering noises in her grief. A long time passed. Finally she lay still and allowed the night to take her. Perhaps if she lay long enough she would die, perhaps the wolf would return and put her out of her misery, perhaps…

  “Raine? Raine? Is that you? Are you all right?”

  A man’s voice. Was she dreaming? No, she did not recognise it… but it pulled her back a little from the brink.

  “What’s happened? By Falinor, you look dreadful, here let me help.”

  It was that man, the man who had helped her before, what was his name?

  “Jax is here now, don’t you worry, I’ll get the fire going, we’ll have something to eat, it’s been a long day. I’ve brought something special.”

  Early morning, Raine felt dead. Her bones ached, her head ached, her heart ached. Jax had the fire going, soon she was staring into new flames, quiet and withdrawn. Jax sensed her reticence, he gave her an account of what had happened to him but even the details of his fight with the creature did not spark her interest. Kit was dead, she and Jax Flint would follow. Nothing mattered, she had her own ghosts, she wanted to join them.

  You will have revenge, you will find the Twist at Si an Bhru. The Twist will right the wrongs of this evil. The Twist will breathe life back into the balance. You have been left behind to complete this task. Use this man, use Jax Flint, accept his help and you will achieve peace.

  Raine listened to her inner voice but did not care. She would continue on this hopeless path because she had nothing better to do. She would face and welcome death if it came her way, she would allow the wave of chaos to take her. She felt small, broken.

  But she was still breathing, her heart still beating. She looked from the flames and spoke to Jax’s back.

  “Hold me.”

  Jax turned, his cheeks red from the fire. She could see strips of venison roasting over the flames. She stood looking at the man, the wild man whose path had crossed hers. She wanted, she craved human contact, a touch, to reconnect her to life, to the Erthe.

  Jax approached holding his arms out. She fell into his embrace.

  “Don’t leave me again, stay with me. Everyone else has gone, everyone else has left me, I need you to get me through this.”

  Jax listened and wondered. He recognised Raine’s despair. He was alone too, Kit was dead. That beast spelt danger, more of its kind would come. Things had changed, his world had changed, it was time to move on to the next chapter of his life. This woman had opened that door for him, he would follow her and give her all the help he could.

  They held each other for some minutes. Slowly, Raine felt her mind return, she felt reconnected, alive. It was time to re-engage.

  “That smells good,” she heard her voice speak.

  “Let’s eat,” Jax replied.

  They ate in silence, the meat was delicious, its juices ran down Raine’s chin. Morning light filtered through the trees, night’s dark foreboding softening. Raine told Jax about the wolf she had seen.

  “Never known them to come down so far off the mountains this time of year. Something’s wrong on the tops, lack of food or something else…”

  “Something else?”

  Jax spat on the ground and looked at the fire. “A bigger predator, something large
enough to push a pack off the mountain.”

  “Bears?” Raine ventured.

  “No, bears are solitary, they rub along well enough with wolves, they avoid each other. No, this is something new, different. Maybe something like what attacked me and Kit…”

  Raine chewed, thinking. She felt herself opening up, she started talking. Once started she found she could not stop. She told Jax about her family, her village, the Simulacrum attack, about her voice and its instructions and her journey. She told him about the thing that had killed the Simulacrum warrior. She told him all she knew of Si an Bhru and the Twist.

  “A mystery? What do you make of it Jax?” She ran out of words and stopped.

  She looked up meeting Jax’s gaze, his shoulders were tense, his eyes dark shadows.

  Finally he answered. “I can’t be sure from what you said but if I didn’t know better I’d say Ashtoreth has risen and has stirred up some mischief. Why has she returned? I don’t know, but what I do know is what the stories say, and they say whenever Ashtoreth rises, her sister Morrigan isn’t far behind. Those two stir up trouble, men and kings have fallen before with their games, their magic.” Jax shuddered and sat up, scratching his beard. “This Twist you speak of, I’ve never heard of it.”

  “What do you think it is? Why is it so important?”

  “I don’t know, it could be a weapon… or a demon.”

  “To fight Ashtoreth with? Fight fire with fire? But a demon…” Raine’s words faded, her expression full of dread. “A demon?” she whispered.

  “Not all demons are bad, some are of the Erthe, elementals, they protect her. They rise in times of great need.”

  “But those are children’s stories, my mother and grandmother would tell them to entertain us.”

  “Behind children’s tales and songs lie hidden truths, if you go back far enough you will find the truth. No, I think Ashtoreth has risen and her sister with her. You’ve been tasked to find this Twist to protect the Erthe, to fight them. I’ll help you over these mountains, to the plains, then on to Si an Bhru.”

  “To find the Twist,” Raine said.

  “To find the Twist,” Jax echoed.

  Chapter 10

  Lament of the Winds

  Morrigan stopped, she raised her head and sniffed the air.

  “Something has changed,” she hissed, her voice echoing in his head.

  “What is it?” Liss replied in his thoughts, he nearly collided into her on the narrow trail.

  She remained still, eyes closed, breathing. Minutes passed, Liss waited, this was familiar, often the pack would stop to await Ice Heart’s lead. This he understood, the searching, the feeling for the scent, he watched Morrigan’s body, her curves fascinated him, bewitched him. She said she carried his child, how had that come to pass? The pack would defend their offspring to the death, pregnant females were special, to be protected.

  He would protect this woman, this Morrigan.

  Morrigan opened her eyes and whispered. “Harm is in the air sister, someone means us harm. They search for a way to harm us, they search for a weapon.” Morrigan’s eyes flashed, spittle flew from her lips. “Let them try, they have tried before and failed.” She nodded her head vehemently as if speaking to another. “How goes it sister? Are the Simulacrum bending for you? Have they snapped?”

  Morrigan cocked her head listening intently. Liss heard only the wind in the trees, he closed his eyes trying to imagine who Morrigan was speaking to.

  “Yes, sister. You’ve roused the Simulacrum Lords well, the stirring has begun. The Imperial City has taken notice of the unrest. The game has begun, it will be good to watch it unfold sister, it has been too long since our last awakening. We’ll stir up a storm this time, punish the sons of the Stone Lords for their crimes.” Morrigan’s shoulders slumped, her head dropped forwards.

  She came to and looked back at Liss. He stared at her, unblinking, trusting. She gave him the merest hint of a nod and turned back to the trail.

  “Change of plan, we’re going to Si an Bhru, the hill of death as I remember it,” Morrigan said. She broke off from the trail and headed northwest.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur for Liss. Morrigan did not let up, she pushed their pace showing no fatigue. She was otherworldly, Liss wondered what that meant for the child she carried, his child. His thoughts were abstract, his heart told him she would bear wolf offspring, his head knew the baby would be human. He knew with certainty their child would have the spirit of a wolf.

  Hours blurred, the landscape changed. Trees became sparse, the plains came into view. A vast sea of grassland stretched to the horizon, Liss had never seen such flat terrain before, he was uncertain who or what would choose to live there. He followed Morrigan realising for the first time that he had not thought of his pack in over a day, he had not thought of Yellow Eyes. A brief sense of shame ran through him but it was fleeting, he was swept up in the scene unfolding before him and with this woman, Morrigan. He was in a different world, her world, he was entranced.

  With the last light of day Morrigan stopped and clapped her hands. She stood silhouetted against the red sky and pointed. Liss craned his neck to see what she was excited about.

  “There, Liss my boy, do you see? Our goal, that hill in the distance is Si an Bhru, that’s where we are headed. Our first challenge lies there, someone is coming to defy my sister. We’ve been freed for a purpose, it’s important we are allowed to complete our work. Nothing will stand in our way, nothing.”

  A presence opened up in Liss’s heart, the spirit of Yellow Eyes spoke to him.

  “Liss, hear me. This one, this vargr, has entered your mind she speaks to you in your head, she knows what you are thinking, she sees through your eyes and heart. She’s a deceiver, don’t trust her, she has killed us, your family, your pack.” The voice faded and was lost. Liss listened but did not hear Yellow Eyes, he was caught up in the moment, with Morrigan and the promise of life she carried, his offspring. The past was poison, the future was all that mattered.

  Hours passed, they walked through lush grassland. Liss’s head hurt, he felt detached, seeing but not seeing, hearing but not hearing. Morrigan strode ahead, she had not acknowledged him for hours, had not turned to see if he was keeping up. She possessed strength, magical power. No normal human could keep up this punishing pace.

  Si an Bhru was near, an hour away, Liss was flagging, he could not continue. At last his legs froze with cramp, he fell to the ground, swallowed up by the sighing grasses. His head spun, the sun beat down and unconsciousness claimed him.

  Morrigan was aware of Liss’s collapse, but she did not stop, she was drawn towards the hill of the dead. A place that lived, as a vivid scar, in her memory. The place where an age ago she had lost her mortality becoming immortal, the place where she had been sacrificed by the Stone Lords, her heart ripped out, consumed by their bastard sons.

  She was acutely aware of her surroundings, she heard the wind in the grass, the soft whisper of the dead in her heart, she felt her blood rush through the chambers of her heart.

  Ashtoreth was not there to protect her. Not this time.

  She was alone without her sister. She knew a decision would have to be made once she arrived at the stone chamber. Winter solstice was near, dawn light would flood the tomb, she could pull lost souls from the spirit world. They would pour through the sacred space, into the barrow and out into this world, the world the Stone Lords’ sons had inherited all those generations ago. Their direct bloodline who now lived in the Imperial Cities and their distant kin, those that called themselves Simulacrum, they would all pay for the crimes of the Stone Lords.

  Morrigan smiled as she thought of the destruction she and her sister would visit upon this soft race of men. Men whose distant descendants had sacrificed Ashtoreth all those years ago, beheaded her, cremated her and scattered her ashes to the seven winds.

  So she would not rise again.

  Except their precautions had been futile. They had n
ot done the same to Morrigan, her remains were saved before the Stone Lords could cremate her. Her followers had stolen her body, embalming her in the undercroft at the Temple of Steira, in the Jacta Arx. She had vanished, the Stone Lords had forgotten her. Time had forgotten her.

  Their mistake.

  Hidden for long years. Until she reached out and found the feral wolf boy. Who would have thought her release and Ashtoreth’s reincarnation would have depended on this insignificant mortal? Now she carried his child, a child half dead, half alive, a child that could cross between life and death, a new breed of warrior. She could feel it growing in her belly, draining her spirit energy, battling with the life force the wolf boy had given it.

  She did not envy her child’s struggle, it would be conflicted with the choices that death and life had to offer. It would learn quickly the only thing that mattered was power, absolute power and family. Ashtoreth, Morrigan and her child would step back onto the Erthe’s stage and rule the races. Morrigan smiled, the wind whistled through the ring of stones surrounding Si na Bhru; the Stone Lords had always been ones for melodrama.

  The wind was unsettling, it resembled the voices of her dead family, it spoke to her of loss, loneliness. She was nearly there, her mind flicked back to the child she carried in her womb. What name would she give it? A name appropriate for a possessor of death and life?

  The wind rose to a crescendo through the stones. A name came to her.

  Vanth, son of Morrigan; Vanth, walker between worlds.

  Vanth the destroyer.

  Morrigan smiled, the souls of the underworld would once more hold sway on the Erthe. Their rule would last millennia.

 

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