Vagner paused in mid air and hovered like a hummingbird, as demons were apparently able to do with little more and a few light down strokes of his massive chiropteran wings.
“The wards are only on the towers themselves, it would seem,” Vagner replied, and he fluttered down to land on the bridge at Alaric’s side. The demon sniffed. “You smell like fruit.”
Alaric laughed. “I had a royal bath,” he said. “The water was scented with something like fruit.”
“Rather starting to enjoy this life, are you?” Vagner asked.
“Not really,” Alaric said. “Though I will admit that it’s been rather peaceful since Ronan doesn’t seem to want to talk to me, but I am rather at a loss of what to do. I came here to find an Elder so we could both be set free, and so far all I have done is eaten and ridden and entertained a king who looks like a child...”
“Terrible life,” the demon said and smiled.
“I just wish I knew what to do next,” Alaric said.
“Perhaps you should ask the king where an Elder can be found,” Vagner said. “Then we could break our bond and I could go back to my home in the Demon Void and you could go back to that stodgy mage school and...”
Vagner paused and glanced over the rail. His motion was so sudden, Alaric felt impelled to do so. Far below on another walkway was the Dvergar Fion, and at his side, the tall ethereal demon now wearing female form... Sedar looked up, and even from such a height, Alaric could see that the white demon was curling lips back in anger.
“I don’t think that one much likes either of us,” Alaric said.
“The feeling is mutual,” Vagner said and whipped his tail in agitation like a cat. “I would rend it, but I suspect it is more powerful than it appears. Though I will admit, I have never seen a white demon before.”
“Talena said she had seen the White One,” Alaric said. “But before she could tell me more, she was taken back to her tower. You don’t suppose that creature is the one she saw.”
Vagner shrugged. “There is much white to this place,” the demons said. “And little food for a hungry demon.”
There was something almost hopeful in the way the demon said that. “Go on,” Alaric said and smiled. “Go feed. Just don’t eat any of our host’s kind, all right? And leave the sheep and cattle alone as well.”
“Understood,” Vagner said. “And you?”
“I think I will go find Halathor and see if I can get him to tell me anything useful.”
“Such as?”
“Where will I find an Elder?”
Vagner nodded and leapt off the bridge, soaring across the wide expanse and heading for the distant green of trees. Alaric looked down at the couple below. Fion waved. Sedar frowned.
With a sigh, Alaric pulled back and went to look for the Forester.
Vagner soared over the forest, searching for living flesh. Nothing human, he reminded himself, or even remotely human in appearance. A nice herd of deer would be welcome, but so far, all he could see were coneys. Took too many of them to feed a grown demon because they were relatively small compared to the ones in Ard-Taebh. In fact, it occurred to the demon that everyone and everything in this world was smaller.
He saw a farm off to one side, and a herd of cattle. The sight whetted his appetite, but Alaric had said no cattle or sheep, so he resisted and searched farther out. Maybe towards the mountains. As a demon, he could get there quicker than a thought...
But as he was about to head that way, there was a streak of white that dashed ahead of him almost playfully. Vagner stopped and stared, hovering as the white thing spun about and took form. It was Sedar. This time, the white demon had grown wings. Vagner sensed both male and female essence. He had heard of some demons being dual gendered, and apparently this Sedar was one. Oddly enough, at this moment, Sedar was putting off more female than male essence. Indeed, the creatures stared at Vagner in such an unabashed manner, he got the impression it was trying to seduce him.
“You seek food,” Sedar said, using a female voice and smiling. “And maybe more?”
“Uh...yes,” Vagner said. And sniffed. Sedar smelled like a female demon in heat. The scent was distracting Vagner more than he liked.
“Come,” she said and gestured with one of her long fingers. “I will show you, Youngerkin... I will show you many things.”
Sedar turned and flicked her tail in a gesture of come hither and she sped towards the nearest copse of trees. Vagner followed, still unsure which urge was more powerful now. To feed? To fornicate? He wanted both at the moment. Sedar sped into the thick treetops and became sinuous as a snake. Vagner shifted to accommodate the narrow spaces between branches and leaves as he followed. He dropped into a broad clearing where deer were drinking at a pond.
Hunger took hold. He rushed at the deer, but to his surprise, they did not flee. They stood trustingly, waiting for him to seize several of them in his claws. He tore off heads, drained their blood, devoured their flesh quickly and looked around.
Sedar was sitting on a rock on the far side of the water, delicately licking blood from slender claws. The female smell was overpowering now. The white demon’s eyes caught Vagner, and Sedar arched the female form as an invitation.
There was no stopping now. With a howl of delight, Vagner sprang on Sedar. The white demon did not resist. Indeed, the creature wrapped itself about Vagner, and in moments, he was giving in to the natural urges of his kind.
So maybe it was just Alaric that Sedar did not like after all.
Alaric found Halathor down in the stables attending to Talena’s flighty mare. The Forester looked up and smiled.
“She is quite a beauty,” he said. “I would have been proud to ride one like her in the days when I was a cavalry rider.”
“You were a cavalry rider?” Alaric said, leaning on the stall door and looking in. Kessa seemed to be enjoying the attention she was getting from this total stranger. He wondered what Talena would think if she knew.
“Oh, yes,” Halathor said. “At the last Darkening, I was in the King’s cavalry.”
“Which king?”
“Tane Aldus bho Fylor, the Champion of Light,” Halathor said.
“You were at the Darkening?” Alaric started trying to figure out in his head how old this Forester was. “But that would mean...how old are you?”
“I was born before the time of the Shadow Lords,” Halathor said and smiled. “This surprises you?”
“It’s taking some getting used to,” Alaric said.
Halathor nodded. “All we do must seem strange to you, coming from so far away.”
“It does,” Alaric said. He reached out and brushed Kessa’s nose. She curled her lips back as horses sometimes did when a favorite ticklish spot had been found. “Tell me Halathor, where would I find an Elder?”
The Forester ceased to brush the mare and narrowed his eyes. “Why would you seek an Elder?” he asked. “When the time is right, an Elder will find you.”
Alaric frowned. That sounded like another riddle.
“But I need an Elder now,” Alaric insisted. “I need to rid myself of the demon’s mark so I can return to my own land and rescue my friends...”
Assuming they were not already dead? It occurred to Alaric that his time here might well have cost them their lives. Not something he wanted to consider.
Halathor shook his head again. “When the time comes, the Elder will come to you. But the time is not right.”
“How would you know that?”
A faint smile spread Halathor’s lips. “You will understand soon enough.”
“I want to understand now,” Alaric said. “No offense, but your king just keeps leading me around like a visiting dignitary and Talena is a prisoner being visited by a White One...”
“The White One,” Halathor corrected. “The White One has visited your friend?”
“What is the difference?”
“She who visits your friend is She Who Sits at the Center of All Things.”
“Truly, you must be patient,” Halathor said. “The time is drawing near when you will be told all you must know.” He put a hand to Alaric’s chest, touching his breastbone. “Nearer than you think.”
Alaric felt just a little uncomfortable, so he backed away out of touch range. Where Halathor’s hand had touched him, he felt cold. He reached up and rubbed the spot and it felt knotty and unnatural. And his thoughts flitted back to his strange dream last night when he had crawled up walls and...
A slight headache suddenly burned him. Alaric closed his eyes and pressed fingers to his temple. It took but a moment to abate. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, noticing Halathor had gone back to grooming Kessa as though nothing were amiss. But I just... Alaric froze. What had he been thinking the moment before?
That I wanted to find an Elder. That was it. Frowning, Alaric turned on his heels and left the stables at a furious pace.
This farce has to end, he told himself, looking at the mark on his right hand.
He would get an answer from someone.
Somehow.
SIXTY-THREE
The afternoon shadows started to fill the tower. Talena sat on the pallet, concentrating on the walls. There had to be a way to remember. There had to be a way to draw on her own blood. If she could but do as Desura had done, summoned power from inside her.
But Desura is dead because she did so.
In a way, Talena thought she should have blamed Alaric for that. He had been the key to that knowledge, and he must have failed to explain it well enough, in Talena’s head. Elsewise, Desura might still be alive.
Or would she?
In truth, Talena found it hard to blame Alaric now. Not when she had been given the one thing she thought she would never have again.
A reason to remember who she was. Who her mother was. And her father.
And why she so hated the Temple of the Triad.
They stole my family. They stole my sense of worth. They killed my cousin in the name of their false beliefs...
Unforgivable. She hated them. She wanted to destroy them, and the hatred burned under her breastbone so powerfully, it made her ill.
“Hatred is not the answer,” the ethereal voice whispered.
Talena opened her eyes. The White One was back, seated on the floor in front of her. She blinked to make certain she was seeing that tall, wispy shape.
“Then what is the answer?” Talena asked. “How much longer must I endure this prison? And don’t tell me the answer is within me, because I have tried and tried to make these walls go away, and they won’t...”
The White One smiled, and there was something almost reptilian in her opalescent eyes. “It is not the walls that you wish to make go away,” she said. “It is the door that you wish to open, remember. That door will open when you remember how to make it open.”
Talena snarled an oath. “You’re driving me insane!” she said and sprang to her feet. “Can’t you just tell me?”
The White One shook her head. “The Balance depends on you learning what you are yourself,” she said. “Just as it will soon depend on the decisions of others.”
“What others?” Talena asked.
“Those with whom you came. Those you left behind. Many have the power to control the Balance of All Things. Just as there are those who would sunder the Balance and rid the world of all our kind...”
“Like the Temples of the Triad,” Talena said and took a deep breath.
“Like the Temples of the Triad,” the White One said with a sigh that was filled with the wind.
“I tell you what, then,” Talena said. “Let me go, and I will go back and destroy the Temples for you. I will do it in your name...”
The White One shook her head. “I have no desire to destroy them, misguided as they are, for they too are part of the Balance of all things. I only want my followers to be allowed to move freely through the Land that Has Forgotten and help it to remember. Death and destruction only lead to more death and destruction, and there is so much of that when the Circle of Time turns. There is a great war coming to a far land, and the Balance will be threatened before its time. I do not wish for this to happen, but I am bound by the choices that those who live in my world make. If the children of the world choose to let the darkness free, then the Dark Mother will return, and her children will spread her shadow across all the known and unknown lands alike.”
“But if you are what you say,” Talena said, “then you have defeated her before.”
The White One smiled. “And my victory was the result of keeping The Balance intact, and I could not have achieved that victory had there not been those among my children who were willing to sacrifice their lives to maintain the Balance. But the Dark Mother is always seeking to throw it asunder, for that is the only way she can take power.”
“But I would fight. I would fight for you, if you would just let me free,” Talena said.
The White One smiled. “You are young, and the age of battle is not yet at hand. If you are able to remember what you are, then perhaps you will live to see the glory you so desire.”
“And if I don’t remember?” Talena said. She felt cold now.
“Then you will be as those who forsook their heritage on a false whim. You will live but a mortal span, never knowing what part you might have played in the Balance of All Things.”
“And I will be a prisoner here forever?”
The White One shook her head. “If you have not remembered by the time I return, then you will be sent back to your people. And you will remember not, for I will have to take from you all memory of what you have seen. That I will do for the sake of the Balance. But the choice is still yours.”
The White One rose to her full height and glanced towards the windows. “I must go. Think on what I have said.”
“No, wait...how do I remember?” Talena asked, feeling desperation creeping in. To be abandoned, to have her memories taken from her. That was not what she wanted at all. “How can I know what I am?”
Smiling, the White One leaned down and kissed Talena on the forehead. It was such a simple gesture, but it brought tears to Talena’s eyes. When she was small, her mother often kissed her that way.
“Have no fear,” the White One whispered, and her voice was so like that of Talena’s mother. “You will remember, my child. Of that, I am certain...”
The ethereal creature suddenly rose and like a wisp of fog, she floated up through the windows and was gone. Only the touch of her kiss remained on Talena’s forehead.
Talena reached up to touch the spot. Its warmth reached into her mind, welling forth those memories of her childhood so long ignored. Of how she sat on the bank of a stream and watched as her mother held out her hand and whispered. The fish would leap into her hands as she spoke...
She remembered the time when she sat with her mother and whispered to the birds as she had been taught. And how they would come to her...
Talena whispered those words now, and with her eyes closed, she could almost imagine that she heard the thrum of wings. She opened her eyes and looked up when the sound continued.
The high windows of the tower were filled with birds. Talena held her breath in wonder. Then she carefully lifted her hand and whispered again.
A white dove flew down, landing on her hand. It cooed and cocked its head, looking at her with such inquisitive eyes.
And inside herself, Talena felt a faint thrum that she had not felt since she was a child...
Fenelon was having a dream, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not make it change.
He saw himself back in the tower of Dun Gealach, only this time he was not alone. Etienne, Wendon, Shona...even his father were all there, shackled to the walls, prisoners of Turlough. Then things shifted and they were being dragged out onto the top of the tower. Around him, Fenelon could see that the land had become bathed in shadow. A black dragon was winging overhead, watching as Fenelon and the others wer
e taken to the block. Shona was first to lose her head, then Wendon and Fenelon’s father. And then they took Etienne to the block. Fenelon struggled, trying to break the magical bonds that were keeping him from casting spells to save her, but the actions were in vain. Etienne knelt and they cut off her head in a single blow with a very sharp sword. It rolled over to his feet, staring up at him in an accusing manner.
And then they dragged Fenelon to the block and forced him to his knees. His struggles were useless. They pushed him down, his head on the block, and just before he heard the whistle of the ax, he saw the black dragon smile. “You failed,” the dragon whispered. “You failed to bring the Twice-Blooded Once-Born into being, and now my shadows will rule again.”
“Let go!” he cried and struggled. “It’s not my time.”
But then the ax fell, and he felt himself falling, rolling over and over, his eyes open to the sky.
Fenelon rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. Stone was all around him. He gasped and sat up, and his head spun.
“So, you’re awake,” Gareth said and smiled. “Were you dreaming?”
Fenelon took several deep breaths before he whispered, “Yes. Was I shouting?”
“As a matter of fact, you were, though none of it was very coherent. The echo in this place, I imagine. You looked as though you were in the throes of mage fever at one point. What were you dreaming?”
“Nothing important,” Fenelon said. Then thought, Nothing but your death, and the deaths of all those I cherish.
“Well, I’m glad to see you’re all right,” Gareth said, and something in his tone indicated he did not entirely believe what Fenelon was saying. “Hobbler and I were thinking we would have to find a way to rope the packs together and sling you between us to carry you back to the inn.”
“How long have I been asleep?” Fenelon asked as he more carefully raised his head. At least the headache was gone.
Gareth shrugged. “In here, who can say?”
“It’s nightfall in the upper world,” Hobbler said. The Dvergar was playing with his gambling tiles.
“How can you tell?” Fenelon asked.
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