“Yes,” Wynn replied, “only slightly but I felt you.”
“I feel then you will not be controlled mentally, although Her forces are far more powerful than I. I was using all my stealth to enter your head and you felt me anyway. I cannot teach you anything that you do not know, only to be wary.”
“I will be ready.”
“Hmm, we will see and pray. Now close your eyes and think of nothing.”
Wynn obeyed, feeling slightly foolish, as if Wolf was in front of her pulling a face whilst she concentrated. With an effort she pushed those thoughts away and concentrated on nothing, but a thought niggled at her like an itch, how can I think of nothing, surely I am trying so hard to think of nothing that I am thinking? Wynn thought exasperatedly. Wolf’s emotions had regained their calm flow, like a river and she thought of nothing and felt only peace. Wynn wondered how she achieved such a state, through years of practise Wynn decided, and with a jolt realised she was thinking once more. Internally slapping herself she tried to think of a lake, inspired by Wolf, reasoning that thinking of the expanse of calm water would prompt her body into the tranquil state Wolf had mentioned; but then her mind would drift and she would imagine she could see a fish darting beneath the surface. She tried again and this time thought of the open sky. It worked for a while and she felt a kind of sereneness pass through her but suddenly an image of Byron flashed through her and her illusion was destroyed.
“You will never find peace if you are battling yourself,” Wolf said inside her head after watching her failed attempts to think of nothing.
“I am not battling myself.”
“I am no great Magus, but I am a warrior and I can see a battle when it is before my eyes. Your mind is always wandering and you cannot be still. Have you ever just sat and watched the world go by? I doubt it, you blame yourself for the deaths of those that you loved and that is your greatest sadness. That man that passed before your eyes, a lover?”
Wynn could not stop her mind thinking back to every sparse conversation she had had with Byron, “No, my brother, my half brother. He is on his way to The Rune, a prisoner because of me. He sacrificed himself to save me and now I do not know if he is alive or well.”
Wolf laughed but it was a sad sound and Wynn felt it resonate through her head, the strange mixture of laughter and sadness. “My little Wynn,” Wolf said through the mental link, “I have in some ways overestimated you, I thought you past self pity and despair, past things you cannot change.”
“You laugh at my pain?” Wynn shouted into Wolf’s head, her voice high and angry and full of agony. She did not pause to understand exactly what Wolf was saying, that she pitied her. It did not matter, Wolf had laughed and Wynn was furious. The flux of emotions was a confusing one and Wynn held her head in her hands, feeling her rage and sadness and Wolf’s shock and pain. Wynn wished furiously she did not have to feel others emotions, at this moment it did nothing but make her ill and befuddle her senses.
“You are too emotional, and it is this that will be your downfall,” Wolf whispered harshly into Wynn’s mind. Angry, Wynn pushed Wolf out of her head and sat there glowering at her. Wolf had regained her peacefulness and it made Wynn ever angrier. How could she be so calm? How could she sit there and laugh at her pain? She sat steaming for a long while, able to think of nothing else but rage. Eventually Wolf smiled a half smile.
“Think of nothing,” she commanded.
Wynn, who had long since calmed down and begun to feel quite foolish, especially since Wolf had been proved right about her being too emotional, closed her eyes. In her desolation and embarrassment she thought of a wasteland, completely dead, grey against the sunlight, hot and merciless. She could feel Wolf’s surprise that she had chosen such a place, but she ignored it and thought of nothing save the wasteland. Suddenly her breath became still and her heart ceased to beat. Instead of the plains there was nothing but darkness. She heard Wolf call her from far away but she could not escape the blackness. She felt rage build inside her, the same rage she had felt when she killed the Master, when she killed Procel, the burning in her heart and fire in her soul. She wanted to strike out and kill something, and slowly the wasteland morphed into a sea of black. Creatures blinked at her and roared and Wynn welcomed their attack.
She could feel Wolf trying to call her back, Wolf’s emotions slipping from the sereneness to pure blind terror, but Wynn did not want to leave, these creatures deserved to die, creatures of evil and shadows. She went deep inside herself, and threw herself into the pool of magic. She wrapped the magic around her like a shield and beckoned the creatures. They snarled and pawed the ground ready to attack. Wynn called her magic to her fingertips and prepared to strike.
“Wynn!” Wolf cried and slapped her hard around the face. Wynn opened her eyes and gulped at the air. Her eyes streamed and she clutched the dirt to reassure her that she was alive. Deep inside her she could feel the anger and darkness bubbling.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You have a dark side,” Wolf said sadly, “if you do not control it you will become uncontrollable. That place you were in, it is bad. I have never encountered the like and you would do well never to return. A world of shadows, where it is forever night and the light never shines, is an ominous place indeed. I do not even think that it is like the place you visited when you entered the Dagger of Night, that was dark but this place – what I could gather from the thoughts I heard – was your own personal darkness, your anger, your chance to strike out and kill.”
Wynn spluttered in shock and buried her head in her hands, “The darkness... it is something I cannot control, it wraps itself around me and I am loathed to admit that I enjoy its embrace, and... and yet I have not always felt like this. I must stress it enough because it is only recently that I felt this way.”
Wolf looked at her for a long while, as though searching for something – Wynn felt nothing from Wolf and began to feel afraid, Wolf in herself did not know how to feel and Wolf always had an opinion, always felt something – then whispered, no louder than the rustle of leaves, “Something about you vexes me.”
Wynn started, for it was exactly what Medea had said before they left on their journey. What did it mean? Two Magus had both been vexed by Wynn’s very being, something inside her that was wrong and did not fit with the rest of her. It was Wynn’s turn to not know how to feel and she sat for a long moment filled with self pity. She did not feel the wind brushing her skin or blowing her hair, or hear the rustle of the beautiful trees that surrounded them.
“I am evil, aren’t I?” Wynn whimpered eventually.
Wolf laughed then, but the sound was not unkind and spoke softly as though aware of how important her words would be to Wynn’s sanity, “Why did you kill your Master?”
“He was about rape me...” Wynn choked and could not continue. She was surprised, she had thought herself past tears, and certainly thought her heart had become cold against the Master. She had not told anyone of the events that had occurred before the Master’s murder, it was hard to talk about, hard to even think. She was glad at this moment that Wolf could feel how desolate the memory made her feel, how dirty and wronged she had now become.
“Then it was self defence,” Wolf said forcefully, “you did not seek him out, and murder him in cold blood. You defended yourself. Every time you have killed it has been to protect those you love or yourself, how can you loath the power that helps you achieve that? You fear the dark inside you but there cannot be darkness without light, you cannot distinguish between them without the other to show you. Do you fear the night because it is dark? No you fear the night because it blinds your eyes and dulls your senses, but how can we be sure that the darkness is truly evil without a light to shine through it? Aerona lost her light many years ago. You are not evil. Never forget the past that brought you here.”
Wynn smiled then, and brushed the tears from her cheeks. She closed her eyes and with a sudden inspiration thought of a sunset, a time w
hen both light and dark merge to form something of beauty. Wolf smiled and entered Wynn’s mind, sitting on the edge to watch. Wynn acknowledged her and continued to think of a sunset, watching the golden hues and the reds and pinks and amber colours merge with the thick blackness. Here she felt serene and at peace. She felt her heart slow and everything was forgotten save the beauty and peace she felt.
Wynn smiled, releasing her mind from the memory of her encounter with Wolf and looked at the man who she had fought. She did not explain her lesson to him; Wolf would have taught it to him if she felt him worthy. He smiled at her despite himself and she helped him up.
“A wise person once told me that there cannot be darkness without light,” Wynn said softly, and laughed gently at the man’s confusion, “you will understand one day,” and with that walked back to her tent to wash her face.
Arabella strode into Wynn’s tent a few days later and sat beside her, her hair was tied back and her cheeks were flushed, she wore her old clothes and a determined expression, “Wynn,” she said warily, “I feel we should move on from here, we still have a long journey ahead of us and we have lost precious time.”
Wynn nodded reluctantly, she felt it too, the pull of time, they had spent too long here. Quickly she changed out of her Manti outfit, placing it in her pack, and back into her torn trousers, shirt and jerkin that had been washed and repaired, but still retained their worn looks. As she changed she could not help but feel sad that she was leaving. They had been in the camp for two weeks and she had grown to love Wolf like a sister. Leaving this safe and friendly tribe would be hard, knowing what she was leaving for. Wynn found Wolf outside talking to Arabella; they were deep in discussion and did not notice her walk over to them.
“Arabella tells me you wish to leave?” Wolf said slowly to Wynn.
Wynn nodded sadly and felt a stab in her stomach as Wolf’s eyes clouded over with tears. She wished she could stay in the tribe’s company forever, but a different destiny pulled her and she could not knowingly stay while so much was at stake.
“Do not think it is because we do not enjoy your company,” Wynn said hurriedly, “we left to find Berhandril and it is a journey that we must complete. If I had a choice I would stay here with you forever.”
“And I,” Arabella agreed, “your people are like a variation of the Gypsy race that was my family and you have awoken and reminded me of my heritage. I thank you for that.”
Wolf nodded, attempting to bite back tears. Wynn was glad then, as she had found cause to feel before, that she could feel Wolf’s emotions for they said the words she struggled to say and reaffirmed that they had made a lifelong friend in the tribe’s leader. Wordlessly Wolf led them through the camp, her people waved goodbye to them solemnly. Wynn drank in the sight of the camp, knowing it would be some time before she came here again, if ever. They stopped before an unremarkable patch of forest, bordering the camp.
“Take this route,” Wolf whispered, “The path is marked by crossed branches, follow it and you will be safe from Her creatures. There is an ancient magic here that will protect you.”
Arabella, Wolf and Wynn stared at each other silently, letting their emotions wash over each other, unable to speak them through their sadness. They became saturated with each other’s love and sadness and the friendship they shared. As always, when emotion got too great Arabella was the first to look away, and with a wave walked through into the forest.
“We will meet again,” Wynn said forcefully, determined that even if Lady Fate herself stood in her way she would see Wolf and her tribe again. Wolf bowed her head and Wynn walked hurriedly after Arabella, too afraid to turn around and see the tears fall freely down Wolf’s face.
10
The Seminary of Berhandril lay thirty feet ahead of them and stretched for miles along the grounds. It clearly had once been a proud castle but now lay in ruins. The outer wall which surrounded the massive structure was derelict, the mortar and stone cracked and worn from the elements. The arrow loops – narrow vertical slits cut into a wall through which arrows could be fired from inside the castle – were boarded up inside the barbican. The barbican – a defensive structure – was latched onto the outer wall and supported the portcullis – a strong grating made of iron, which allowed or refused entry to the castle. Behind the outer wall stood the actual castle, look out posts had crumbled and it seemed that there was nothing intact in the whole structure. It was overall an uninspiring sight. The forest continued around the castle, forming a complete protective circle.
The night sky was streaked with lightening and the rain poured down on them like a waterfall. Drops fell from the leaves and the canopy did nothing to protect from the rain. Wynn and Arabella stood there for some time, looking at the ruins, standing on the edge of the forest. They had left the safety of Wolf’s camp two weeks ago only to reach this, an abandoned, derelict castle.
“What now?” Arabella asked Wynn. The rain poured down her face and plastered her hair to her head.
“I think we should try to go inside,” Wynn answered back eventually, raising her voice to be heard over the thunder, “it could be an illusion. Medea would not send us here knowing there were only ruins.”
They jumped slightly on the balls of their feet to warm themselves. The heavens showed no sign of relenting and they were completely soaked through to their undergarments. They both stared at the castle for a moment longer, loathed to leave the protection of the dark forest which had been their home for over a month. During the two weeks they had practised their combat and Arabella, safe in the knowledge that Wynn was strong enough to control her magic, taught her some basics. How to create a light, heal a wound, shield herself and surround herself with magic. Wynn knew she would need those simple skills very soon.
Eventually they both nodded, as though agreeing with themselves and ran, half crouching towards the castle, over the swampy grounds, stopping at the drawbridge. The moat was overflowing, debris and – Wynn shuddered – remains of dead animals had been raised from the moat floor and deposited onto the bank. They crossed the lowered drawbridge and stopped. The portcullis was made of crossed iron and allowed through the square holes an insight into the castle grounds. They could see ahead of them a large fortified wooden door, which led into the castle. The castle walls reached over forty feet high, the courtyard between where they stood and the castle door was full of broken armour, swords and bows, as though a siege had destroyed all defences the castle once had. In the brief flashes of light from the lightning they could see stables to the right of the outer wall, and to the left smaller, but in equal disrepair, buildings.
“What do we do?” Wynn screamed over the storm, brushing her sopping hair from her face and pulling at her clothes as they clung to her shaking frame. Arabella looked her, with a glint in her eye and Wynn knew she was going to climb up the grating, over the barbican that housed it and drop down into the courtyard. Arabella stretched her arms and legs, shouldering her pack and tightening the straps, before beginning to climb. Wynn watched her reach the top of the grating, before reaching up, her only support her own legs in the holes of the grating, and hold onto the ledge of the barbican. From there she pulled herself up and over until she was out of sight. Wynn watched the castle through the grating, trying to sense anyone near who would threaten them but she could feel no one. She listened out and heard a thump as Arabella jumped from the building and onto the ground of the courtyard, cushioning the blow with magic. She turned around, her smile triumphant and waved Wynn over.
Taking a deep breath Wynn began to climb, her hands and boots slipping occasionally on the soaking iron grate. It was hard work and she was glad for the moment that the rain washed her continuously, cooling her down. She reached the top of the grating and reached up, grasping the stone with claw like fingers, and pulled herself onto the roof of the barbican. The roof was covered in moss and she stepped across it cautiously, the way lit only with the brief flashes of light from the lightning. When she reached t
he edge she jumped, surrounding herself with magic so that she landed softly against the stone courtyard floor.
Arabella smiled her encouragement and they made their way up to the castle door. It was easily twenty feet high with thick metal nails hammered into it in vertical lines to reinforce it. Wynn pressed her palm up to the rough wood, searching. She could feel something, deep inside the castle which matched her understanding of human life. She concentrated, ignoring the claps of thunder which sounded overhead and the constant pour of rain. There were people inside, she was certain, many, many people.
“What do we do now?” Arabella shouted. Wynn shrugged and slowly took her palm away from the wood. She tried banging on the door but she knew it was futile; her small fists were not even larger that the nails hammered to the door. She pressed both palms to the wood to support her and lowered her head and closed her eyes, allowing herself to think. She could feel her legs shaking with exhaustion and the cold, the rain soaking them both to their very bones. After a moment of recovery Wynn had a plan. She dug into her stores of magic and sent a vibration through the door and deep into the castle, repeating it twice before stepping back. At least I’m clean, Wynn thought sardonically as the rain continued to shower them.
Suddenly a loud cracking sounded before them and the door slowly opened to reveal a man, with a mop of brown hair standing in the doorway. He was silhouetted in golden candlelight, his face bewildered. He raised his eyebrow at them in more of a question than a judgement.
“I am sorry but we are not an inn,” he said – after all three of them stared at each other for a moment – not unkindly, but not welcomingly either. Wynn almost wanted to laugh; he had no idea that they had travelled for nearly three months to reach here, what depended on them gaining acceptance into this ruin, what they had battled to make it here. He went to close the door but Arabella stepped forward into the doorway, blocking his way.
Shade of Destiny (The Foreseeing) Page 35