Wynn did not know how long they lay there, recovering. None had stopped to check where they were and if it was safe, the relief of being away from the creatures enough to make them weep. They drifted in and out of consciousness, the combination of exhaustion, hunger, their wounds from the rocks and the fall through the hole made it impossible to think coherent thoughts and act rationally. Sometimes Wynn could hear Arabella’s thoughts as she lay next to her. She worried about their location and if they were safe, but she could not find the energy to do something about it. Wynn knew their situation was dire if even Arabella could not bring herself to scout their location and ascertain their safety.
Wynn eventually woke groggily, her hands, shins, ankles and feet throbbing. She opened her eyes to solid blackness, as thick as smoke. She blinked a few times, to test if her eyes really were open and forced her ragged breathing to slow. Where was she? Silence pressed upon her for a moment, and then emotions and thoughts flooded her conscious. She was not alone at least, the travellers were somewhere near and awake.
“Curse Arabella for skulking off,” a voice echoed around the space. Wynn concentrated on the voice and realised it was Griffin. As she waited she could pinpoint Jareth next to him, Braelyn on his other side and Theodore and Rueben opposite. They were pensive, but most worryingly in pain. Griffin’s anger at Arabella’s disappearance suddenly made sense; they had no one to heal their wounds and no one to make a light. Wynn groaned to show the travellers she was awake and waited as they turned their thoughts to her.
“Wynn’s awake,” Braelyn whispered and Wynn heard her crawl cautiously over and then felt the heat from her body. Wynn accepted her hand and sat up, wishing she could see. In the distance she could sense Arabella, and was glad when the presence began walking back to them, when Arabella was back they would have light and a healer. Now that Wynn was awake her injuries were pressing upon her, the cuts up her legs, on her feet and ankles and the deeper, more serious gashes on the palm of her hands and arms from the times she had fallen onto the rocks.
Arabella’s emotions suddenly became closer and an amber glow could be seen up ahead. The travellers all turned to her, grateful and hopeful. Arabella was grey with exhaustion, the golden glow the light she had made dancing in the air around her head, only highlighted how ill and worn she was. Her hair was pushed back from her head by sweat, dirt and blood and even in the small light she had made it was clear her injuries were severe.
Wynn glanced at the other travellers and they too were gaunt and grey and blood soaked. The smell of blood was overpowering, and Wynn swallowed back bile. As the light lit them all saw that Griffin was the most injured, the rocks has sliced through a tendon in his leg and hundreds of small cuts dotted up his legs and feet. Blood had soaked almost everything around him.
“Can you heal him?” Jareth asked; his face turned towards Arabella, ignoring his own wounds. Arabella lifted her hands and showed that they were cut and bleeding. She still had not mastered the art of using magic it will, and having to admit that made any pain she felt at her wounds vanish, and felt nothing but chagrin in its place. Sealing the hole, and creating the globe of light, Wynn knew had caused her more agony than she would ever admit and even now echoes of the pain racked her body. It was more than using magic through her hands it was the energy needed to perform such feats, more than Arabella was used to, more than her tired body could take.
“I cannot,” Arabella hissed and sat down. The traveller’s eyes swivelled to Wynn. She hid her face with her hair and searched for her magic. She could feel it circling her, fixing her minor injuries, stitching her skin together. She crawled towards Griffin and looked up at Arabella.
“What do I do?” She whispered. Arabella swallowed, her conflicting emotions swirled around Wynn’s conscious, fear that Wynn’s magic would still be too unstable, that one false move could kill them all, but also irritation that Arabella herself could not heal Griffin, or even her own wounds, she would have to suffer whilst she waited for Wynn.
Arabella explained solemnly, adding, “Remember what I told you, you must control yourself.”
Wynn nodded and like Arabella had said she instinctively felt for her magic, finding the pool inside herself with ease. She wished to draw upon it and use it at will but knew she did not have the knowledge or even strength to contain what would be unleashed. She could feel the travellers watching her with trepidation, how ironic it would be to escape the creatures and be killed by the Foreseen. Sighing she closed her eyes and raised her hand until it was hovering over Griffin’s gaping wound. Finding her pool of magic she slowly drew some, sending it through her body until it was pulsing in her palms. Biting her lip in concentration she released it into the wound, sending her mind with it so she could identify the veins and arteries that needed closing. She worked her way through the gash, cleaning and healing it. Griffin’s leg twitched as the skin knitted back together. Wynn knelt back, her face grey with exhaustion, she regarded the group soberly.
Arabella nodded once, Wynn was unsure whether she was congratulating her, or reminding her others needed healing too. She bit her lip and continued on, using her magic, sparingly, carefully, until all significant wounds were healed.
“I don’t have enough experience or magic to replace the blood you lost,” she whispered, completely drained. Arabella smiled weakly and Wynn knew she was praising her, in her own way. Her chest swelled unexpectedly at the compliment. Now they were healed they looked around the space that had saved them. It seemed, by the light of the golden ball Arabella had made, that they were in a tunnel, behind them rocks blocked the way, unmoveable and impassable, a dead end. Before them however the tunnel snaked its way forward, the light did not pierce the blackness.
“Where are we?” Theodore asked. Wynn felt, as she always did, his calm and collected emotions, now nothing but curiosity. The time for fear had passed and he was too young to dwell on what had happened for it to upset him. Oh to be young, Wynn thought sadly. She looked to Arabella, who the question was obviously aimed at. Arabella, despite Wynn’s status as ‘The Foreseen’ was still the most powerful and experienced Magus in the travellers and all important questions and situations were always passed through her.
“I have scouted a small distance ahead; it seems to be a tunnel, probably offering safe passage from Kingly through to Cratewood. It is a dead end now, though someone of power may be able to move the rocks if they had need enough. Many do not pass further than Kingly nowadays. The ground and mountain range were not always so hostile. Legend has it that Princess Embroline, a distant relative of the current King, was imprisoned on the highest peak by a jealous lover, a Sorcerer. He condemned her to die, and cast a spell that the land would transform a little each day to match her heart. She became cold, callous, and evil. So the land changed, and no traveller has passed through this way for more than a century.”
Wynn looked around the tunnel thoughtfully; it was more than luck that they had all fallen in. For once she believed in fate and its design, she was not meant to die, not yet. The travellers were silent once more, each had their own thoughts to think and none were ready to speak again. They did not ask of the creatures that had chased them, though Wynn knew they all wondered at how something so evil could live. They had one way to go now, through the tunnel to wherever it led. They all still had their weapons, but no food or water and Wynn was sure they would find nothing to eat down here. Arabella glanced at her, hearing Wynn’s thoughts and her lips turned down slightly at the corners, no other saw it but it was telling enough to Wynn that they had escaped one danger to be flung into another.
6
They walked for an immeasurable time through the seemingly unending tunnel. It was carved with magic – that much was certain, nothing could have made such smooth walls – but it was unnerving that they did not know its origins exactly and Arabella could only tell them what she knew from legends.
When they were not walking they were sleeping and Wynn was tormented by her drea
ms. At first she had the same dream she had every night, but once that ended she was beset by images of the travellers. Slowly in the dream they reached the base of the mountain, they way would have gone if they had not found the tunnel, the path slightly lit by the moon; they stared up at the mountain’s black uneven face. The jutting rocks would provide unstable, but convenient footholds. A small ledge stood several metres above them, a refuge. It would be easy to reach; hopefully the creatures did not have the ability to climb. They seemed to lack the most basic of bodily functions, balance and co-ordination; all surrendered for pure determination. They were advancing now, metres away, frothing at the mouth, eyes blazing. They reached out with festering fingers, bones exposed.
The travellers began to climb, the face of the mountain crumbling under their fingers, blood splattering below. The closest of the creatures darted forward to lick the blood, the taste awakening and establishing their basic instincts to kill...
Wynn woke each time sweating and shaking, and it was not until she remembered the two dreams together that she realised where she had seen the creatures before. With a recognition that forced the air from her lungs she remembered them as the creatures from her nightmares the ones that had helped Aerona slaughter almost half of Woodstone That Night. Every night they had haunted her sleep and now they had transformed from nightmare into the real world, solid and dangerous. Wynn told no one of her dreams, but she knew Arabella had experienced it through her gift. It disturbed Arabella, that much Wynn could gather, but she did not mention it and so it remained a constant worry, like an itch she could not scratch.
Now once again it was time for sleep, the others had fallen almost instantly but Wynn could not relax. She feared the dreams she would have when she closed her eyes. She thought of the creatures, the Fallen Arabella had called them in passing, confirmed by her dream, none liked to dwell on them and so the subject had moved swiftly on. But they intrigued Wynn in a way she could not explain. She extended her senses out, through the thick walls of the tunnel and jumped as she found them above her. As had been the case since she had first felt them the only thing that emanated from the creatures was a pure and undiluted sense of evil and wrongness. She reached out to the creature’s life force, a mixture of interest and desire to find some good within them, but found nothing. No living heart or soul, just an empty body working purely because of the magic holding it together. The thought disturbed her; these creatures would never find peace until their bodies were separated with Aerona’s black magic. They were waiting for them, and it was clear they would wait forever if need be. Depressed she pulled her magic back, glancing in the direction of the travellers once more, knowing each lay in nightmarish sleep, haunted by their own thoughts.
“I can’t do this,” Wynn whispered to the dark, listening to her voice carry through the thick blackness. Who was she really? Why did every life in the lands rest on her shoulders? She wasn’t strong enough; she had never been strong enough. She had never been able to stand up for herself, and when she did that had resulted in murder. How could so many place their trust in her? She closed her eyes against the darkness, she felt like she was drowning in so many different ways. Physically and mentally she was spent. No wonder Arabella looked at her with distain, the Foreseen did not weep.
“Of course you can do this,” a voice snapped from beside Wynn, Arabella’s voice. Wynn jumped and looked around, but of course the darkness was so complete Arabella could have been inches away from her face and she would have been oblivious. She guessed Arabella was sitting upright, dagger in hand, running her thin fingers over the blade – her usual position. She knew Arabella had felt everything, and caught her thoughts, what she made of them Wynn was unsure, because Arabella’s emotions were very carefully controlled tonight.
“What makes you so sure?” Wynn murmured, hugging her knees close to her chin, her hair falling down to cover her face. Arabella crawled towards her and sat beside her. They both did not bother to make a light, what they were feeling did not need illumination. Wynn could feel the heat from Arabella’s body and it warmed her, despite herself.
“You can do this; someone who can cause such a range of emotions in me is someone to be wary of. Jealously! All my life I have never had cause to be jealous, I am a strong fighter, and strong Magus and am apparently beautiful, and so when you came, clearly strong, and very clearly beautiful I cannot explain the jealously I felt. I must apologise for it, I am deeply ashamed. And dislike, because you can know if I am lying, and know everything I am feeling and that makes me feel weak – and I hate to feel weak. Again I am sorry. But you must understand I have never felt someone like you, and I know with a certainty that keeps me awake at night that you and you alone are the key.”
Wynn said nothing and the silence stretched. She eventually nodded solemnly, unsure what to say aloud; glad that Arabella could see she had accepted her apology through her emotions and was touched at her sincerity. Arabella shuffled on the hard ground and they both cursed the blackness of the tunnel.
They continued to sit in silence. Wynn looked at Arabella, where she should be, because the tunnel was so dark and endless she could not see her own hand in front of her face. Wynn could feel Arabella’s faith in her, mixed with jealousy and distrust, everything she had admitted to. Arabella believed in Wynn more than she would ever say, but was still jealous and hateful of Wynn’s immense power and in conjunction her lack of any real skill; Wynn nodded slowly to herself, the burden of her task weighing heavily on her shoulders.
She thought of how small and insignificant she seemed against the vastness of the lands. There was so much she did not know. Her mind danced to Byron, was he alive somewhere? Did he think of her now as she thought of him? Did he feel an indescribable bond that drew him towards her? She closed her eyes and with all her might forced back her tears; she could not face it, for she knew that once she began to cry she would never stop. Biting her tongue she crawled closer to the sleeping figures of the travellers and closed her eyes, willing her body to rest, wishing she could feel happiness instead of the constant numbing sadness that wracked her thoughts. Her dreams danced in her mind, her mother and her murder.
She woke in the morning, stiff and irritable and wishing for a bath. The travellers around her were still sleeping and Arabella was nowhere to be seen. It had been Arabella’s habit, to scout ahead before they woke to ensure the tunnel was safe to walk through. She had taken it upon herself to become the group’s protector, not that anyone else could shoulder the task. In this situation she was invaluable for light, water and the shelter she provided. Wynn could not help smiling into the darkness, she felt sorry for any foes that might chance upon Arabella.
Taking a moment to listen around her Wynn found the travellers all still asleep. Their dreams flashed in fragments, nonsensical and hard to follow. Wynn ignored them and sat up, the grit and stones moving beneath her. She rolled her shoulders and stretched, feeling her stomach rumble in hunger. She pressed her hand to it, urging it to still.
“Wynn.” The word echoed in her head, urgent and loud and Wynn jumped as it broke through her thoughts. She concentrated on the imprint of the person who had said it, for it lingered still in her mind. It was Arabella she was sure.
“Yes?” she replied.
“Oh good you are awake, the tunnel changes up ahead, I am sure if we follow it we will find an exit. Wake the rest up. I will send a light down to you.”
Wynn waited until a small ball of light could be seen from the distance, floating towards them, before she woke the travellers. They grumbled but all woke and following Wynn they walked through the tunnel. They all noticed the change and for the first time in four days the travellers began to feel relief. The change in the tunnel was slight, only barely noticeable but it seemed that it was sloping upwards. Condensation ran down the walls and moss grew in the pockmarks. Wynn viewed it under the amber glow and knew it meant something, they had to be near an exit, no moss had grown anywhere else in the tunnel. Th
ey walked steadily, all longing for the light of day, the feeling of wind of their face, clean air.
As they walked Wynn took the leather bag from Braelyn and quietly marvelled that they had been able to hold onto the book for so long. Lovingly she felt the cover of the book and smiled that it still filled her with a small sense of satisfaction. Its weight felt right against her shoulder and for a moment she had the overwhelming urge to look upon its pages, but the thought flitted away and instead was interrupted by Jareth.
“Which way?”
Wynn looked ahead of them in surprise, they had yet to meet up with Arabella and in front of them the tunnel forked in three directions. The light cast each fork in shadow and Wynn was suddenly struck by realisation that she could not sense Arabella’s presence anywhere near and had not for some time. She had just been walking, and leading, blindly and had no idea where they were or what to do now. She felt the traveller’s emotions press upon her, confusion and expectation as they all turned to her for guidance. Wynn was unused to this, such trust. Her decision to leave had saved their lives, but got them stuck in this labyrinth.
She realised she had not answered Jareth’s question; she turned to him and took a breath, “I do not know, I cannot feel Arabella.”
Wynn looked around her at the travellers. Two weeks ago they had lived a semblance of a peaceful life, they were wanted certainly by the army, but had been in no danger of being caught. Now here they were, inside a tunnel, leading fate knew where, followed by the Fallen, believing a Gypsy’s assurances that Wynn as the Foreseen. It sickened her; she had caused so much misery. There was nothing to ease their pains, magic could not feed them, they had had no time to bring food or water with them, though of course Arabella could be depended to find some eventually when they were free of the tunnel, but for now they were at its mercy.
Shade of Destiny (The Foreseeing) Page 20