Realm Book One - To Tell of Darkness

by K. A. M'Lady

  This was a whole new experience, even for me. But one that was not yet without interest or enjoyment. I closed my eyes and let myself drift in the moment. Let myself feel all there was to feel by such a creature of this realm.

  I will show you the delight to be found in a true creature of the earth, Ashlan said as the leaf-hands cupped me and stroked my breasts until my nipples were tight, hard peaks. Then other leaf-hands reached for my body, caressing me, stroking a path down my belly until they reached my sex. I felt my body quiver in anticipation of what Ashlan would do to me. Wondered what was next.

  I felt the tensile touch of small limbs open me as one leaf caressed me. It stroked me repeatedly as I grew wet with need. I arched as the desire built inside me and still the leaves stroked my body. Where the large leaves had teased my breasts, smaller ones took over and kept them hard and full, their leaves damp with the evening dew as though they suckled me. And still the leaf at my nub stroked me; my body was on fire with want.

  I opened my eyes, close to reaching an orgasm, as a very large tree limb poised above me. I wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the moon or the glamour of the moment but I could almost make out the image of a man etched in the dark grooves of the bark.

  Long dark hair covered a strong, square face with deep knowing eyes. I could almost make out the hint of a smile as I felt something enter me. It was hard and smooth as it pushed its way deep inside me.

  Yes, young one. So much more are we, Ashlan said as he started to move inside me.

  My body clenched around him, and I thought I would die if I didn’t find release soon. He moved so slowly in me, stretching out the moment, clearly enjoying himself if the lilt of the smile that was etched in the lines of his face were any indication.

  But I needed release.

  I moved against him and his eyes flashed with desire, dark and smoldering in the shadow of the tree. The tempo increased and I wanted so badly to wrap my legs around him and ride the wave of frenzy that was building in me.

  Release my legs, I whispered through my mind.

  You will flee.

  Trust me on this, fleeing is the last thing I’m doing at the moment. Release my legs.

  I could see the consideration process through his eyes. It took but a moment before the vines unwound and my legs were free. I wrapped them around the thickness of him and rode him until I could hear him gasping in my mind. My orgasm broke over me in a rush as Ashlan yelled my name.

  I lay in the soft bed of leaves for several minutes relearning how to breathe. Well, that was an experience I’ll not soon forget, I said with a sigh.

  Nor I, he agreed, and I could hear the contentment in his voice. But I fear it is time for me to release you. Before your Stalker decides to climb up my limbs and rescue you.

  I could only smile at the thought. I’d like to see Kieran do just that. But call me crazy, from the whisper of laughter and delight that danced briefly through my head--I’d say Kieran was too busy basking in the afterglow.

  I spend a lot of time upon my knees

  Serving the earth.

  I cancel out the curse of God,

  Defeat his greatest effort.

  I grow posies of flowers

  On the hobstone of hell.

  From Even in Her Garden in This Vale of Tears

  By Biddy Jenkinson

  Translated from the Irish by Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill

  Chapter Seventeen

  The reversed water was literally a gargling, bubbling stream of crystal-clear water that ran backwards over rocks and twigs the otters and beavers had left. I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything like it in my lifetime. But then again, I didn’t expect to have sex with a tree spirit, either.

  Call it a crazy night of firsts.

  As far as the great stone, the only pile of rubble that we came across that was even remotely great was a mound covered in dead vines, peat moss and enough dirt that it didn’t even come close to resembling a rock.

  The wolves had first sniffed out the giant dirt clod, then tracked down the bubbling brook that ran just north of it. Apparently you could lead a man to water. I guess they just had to be part dog.

  Maybe that didn’t really apply, because Dragon didn’t seem to have any trouble locating the water either. So apparently cats could be led there, too.

  And now that we were all here, where the hell was the Wanderling?

  Unfortunately, Ashlan didn’t deem it necessary to provide me with any further information before he took possession of my flesh. His cryptic You will find the Way bullshit was now grating through my mind as I watched the moon pass its zenith through the high canopy of trees overhead.

  We needed to find this witch and get on with the night. I didn’t want to be out here in the middle of nowhere when the sun began to rise. Especially with Kieran, the dead man walking. Wouldn’t want to mar up that lovely face of his, and I highly doubted he much felt like digging a hole in the ground somewhere for the day.

  “So where is this thing?” one of the three wolves asked as he circled the area. I think it was Jade. I was having some difficulty sorting out which one was which, so I could be mistaken.

  Kieran had formally introduced them to me before we’d left my house. He thought I should at least know their names in the event we got separated, or I needed the assistance of one of them. With the way my luck was headed, I hated to guess what I might need their assistance for.

  It seemed the eldest of the three, by five minutes, was called Ien. He had the longest blonde hair of the three--to his waist, and the palest of blonde, like moon-glow. He also had very dark blue eyes, the color of cobalt, or the sky at night just before it turns the warm hue of darkness. It was rather striking.

  The middle--or second born--wolf was named Garric. He had sunny blonde hair and sky-blue eyes, reminding me of the warmth of summer. His hair hung to the middle of his back and had the most waves to it of the three of them. He also had a devil-may-care smile that was infectious and made his eyes sparkle.

  The youngest of the three was Jade. His hair was a warm blonde the color of wheat. It hung just past his shoulders and was so straight and looked so soft I wanted to run my fingers through it. Endlessly. His eyes were a strange icy blue color, almost devoid of color, really. They made him look wise beyond his years, although I wasn’t really sure how old any of them were.

  If I had to guess, I’d say none of them were past twenty-five, but I couldn’t be sure. All three of them were as big as a house, and I had no idea how they had managed to curl up on my pit group together.

  I stood in the darkness, about to answer Jade, but a feeling of complete emptiness settled over me like a thick fog. It was as if the darkness was telling my mind that nothing was here, move on. The trees seemed to cease all movement, and the crickets and bullfrogs quieted in their pallets. In the distance, the gurgle of the brook slowed to a trickle and it seemed as though the night paused to take a deep breath.

  Then I suddenly got the feeling of a snake slithering through my belly, and I had the overwhelming desire to enter the dirt clod. It was inexplicable and uncontained. My feet started to move of their own accord, almost dragging my body forward.

  I heard Jade growl low and deep beside me. “What is that smell?” he asked, turning in a small circle. “Can you smell it?” The scent of rosemary and jasmine clung to the air like a noxious fog, engulfing us in its cloying perfume.

  Kieran was suddenly beside me, his arm wrapped around my waist. “It seeks you, lass. I can feel it like a rope tightening between us.”

  “As can I,” said Dragon, who appeared at my left, winding his hand in mine.

  “It’s here,” I whispered. And I knew with every drop of my being that the Wanderling was beckoning me. Calling me into the darkness. All I had to do was cross over, and my questions would be answered. The knowledge was mine for the taking; the truth to be revealed.

  But at what cost?

  What did I truly know of the Wanderlings? Nothing. Only
what Gimlit had revealed. And even that was so miniscule compared to the magic that was beating down my flesh like a living entity, seeking purchase into my soul. Possession and theft were one and the same.

  Did the Wanderling truly wish to hijack my being? Did it wish to corrupt my powers and make them its own? And what if it did? I had but a few Tells in my arsenal of weapons. I had no idea how many Kieran possessed. After a thousand years, it could be plenty, or it could be few. And the Weres were just brute force.

  With the power that crawled through my pores like rain to a water-starved earth, seeking purchase in its roots, I knew I was nothing compared to it, nothing but a fleck of dust drifting in an ocean of sand. If I wanted to be more, then I had to cross over.

  Decision made, I closed my eyes and let my own power fill me. I called on the earth. I breathed in the scent of earth and wind, trees and all of the creatures of the night. I called for the powers of Light and Darkness to roll me in their glory like an exploding nebula and take me to her. To take me to my Wanderling.

  How I knew it was a her, I’m still unsure. But the knowledge passed through me, filled me up and rolled me under its captivating spell.

  Like a floating specter, Kieran and Dragon’s hands fell from my glowing body. My feet rose from the ground, the wind blowing through the center of my body and spilling out of my mouth in a scream.

  Light poured from my fingers, from my eyes in blinding, sparkling rays of silver and gold; the moon and the sun merged in one being. Kieran had to cover his eyes from the brilliance that poured from my flesh in the glow of illustrious light that filled the copse. The wolves began to howl as if calling to the moon, and as I was swept forward on the currents of power, I disappeared into the face of the mound.

  I landed hard on my knees at the feet of a black-robed being, all the Light and power rushing out of my body in a giant void as if someone had thrown the breaker box. My head jerked forward and as my eyes rocked to a stop, I was left staring at a dirt floor where feet should have been peeking out of that black robe. But there were no shoes that I could see as I peered through the strands of my hair.

  I grunted in pain as my right palm scraped the sharp point of a protruding rock that was sticking out of the floor as I tried to balance myself. I could feel blood begin to well up in my hand, and cringed as pain ripped through my fingertips. “Bloody hell!” I swore as my head popped up. I was unfortunate enough to end up with a crack across the back of my head.

  “Ow! What the hell did you do that for?” I asked as I rubbed my now throbbing skull. At the rate I was going, I’d be lucky to survive this encounter.

  “Bad manners! Foul tongue. This is what ye bring me?” the old crone asked the roof of her dwelling as she mumbled gibberish and cursed in at least five different languages. Her voice was crackled with age, gruff almost, and had a hint of an old English accent.

  I sat on the ground staring at the pale, bony arms that were peeking through her sleeves as she railed at the roof, apparently upset at the Prophets with its choice in me.

  “Cursed be we. ‘Tis what Maebe say,” she grumbled, her stringy gray hair coming free of her cloak and hanging past her shoulder.

  Stick me with a bloody fucking witch. And she thinks she got the bad end of the deal, I thought as I listened to her nonsense. Just then, she stopped and turned her head in my direction as though she’d caught what I was thinking.

  My mouth dropped to my chest as I looked on the wrinkled face of the old woman, whose eyes were sealed over with a mass of scarred tissue. It was like someone had purposefully gouged her eyes out with burning sticks and blinded her to the world.

  “Shocked you, have I? Not quite the lovely you were searching for, eh?” She laughed, and it felt like little spiders were crawling inside my skin.

  “What the hell is wrong with your eyes?” I asked, too struck by the gore to hold back my shock or remember my manners.

  “To see the Way, Rihker, one does not always need one’s eyes.”

  I sighed, loud and long. She sounded just like fucking Gimlit. This obviously was going to be a very long visit.

  “You do not appreciate the truth?” she asked, offering me her hand so that I could get up off the ground. I looked at it for a mere second and took it. I’d already insulted her once, and got a good crack on the head with her walking stick for it. I wasn’t dumb enough to do it again.

  The view wasn’t that much better standing up. Her little hovel was packed with a mish-mash of jars, books and relics. Every nook and cranny had something stashed on something else and things were falling over onto each other. The woman was a virtual pack rat.

  I took the liberty of looking around while I answered, “I appreciate the truth. When it’s straightforward, and not some secret code that I have to try to decipher.”

  On the nearest shelf were ancient manuals and jars full of bugs, eyes and an array of glowing herbs. She had golden chalices, chipped plates, rolled-up maps and what looked like a dish of finger bones. In one corner, she had a small table and two chairs. Along the far wall was a fire pit, with an actual cauldron hung over it, and a baking cove.

  By the looks of it, something was a-brewing in the witch’s kitchen. And no, I didn’t want to know what it was.

  In the far back of the room, she had what I guess would be her bed. But from this distance, it didn’t appear to be anything more than a small-framed cot with a straw mattress and a stack of blankets.

  If you asked me, the Wanderlings were getting screwed living as they were. I mean, who lived like this? Hermits, maybe, or a poor relation that you wanted to forget about.

  If these were the great keepers of our Tells, the Protectors of The Way, their job sucked. Me, personally, I’d be asking for a pay raise.

  “So you have come seeking the knowledge?” she asked as she wandered towards the cauldron. How she got there without tripping over anything amazed me. As she neared it, the fire blazed higher and its contents started to bubble from within its dark depths.

  “I’ve come seeking answers.”

  “Then you must ask, and we will see what can be revealed.”

  This was beginning to be entirely too easy, and anything that seemed too easy was either going to come back to bite me in the ass later, or cause me to bleed. Either way, my prospects did not look good.

  Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, I thought before asking, “What can you tell me about the Prophesy?”

  “Ah, no small inquisition with you. Seek you great knowledge,” she mumbled.

  Yeah, her and fucking Yoda. Why did this always seem to happen to me? I pulled out one of her chairs and sat myself down as I pondered that unfortunate question. I was apparently going to be here a while.

  “‘Twas when our land was dark and our people suffered. It was written in the blood of the Elders, recorded in our great Tablet that a union between a Dark Lord and a Child of the Light would occur, and a child would be conceived beneath a blood-red moon. And of their union, a half-breed child would be born who would shelter the Other World and eliminate the long suffering reach of the Darkness.”

  She paused long enough to stir the cauldron, without touching it, and said, “It is said her powers would Tell of the Light. But only she would have the power to tame the Death Stalkers. The ability to listen to and hear those creatures long standing of the woodland and give them their voice. Only she would have the power to ease the suffering of the dying wanderers.”

  She turned towards me and added, “As it was written, so will be the Way.”

  I stared at her, my mouth agape, my face blank, for several minutes while I let her words sink into my brain. The power would Tell of the Light. Tame the Death Stalkers. I couldn’t help but snort.

  “You dare to mock the Prophesy?” she growled as she appeared like vapor before me, her face but scant inches from mine. And let me tell you, up close and personal with the burned-out holes of her eyes--Can you say fucking gnarly?

  “Look inside yourself, Rihker T
ennai. Seek the signs,” she told me. “Are you not now but on the path of being bound to a Death Stalker? Have you not lain in the folds of the Elders of the Trees?”

  Where did this bitch get her information?

  “Want to know how Maebe knows these things, do you?” She smiled, and the yellowed stumps of her teeth stood out like hydrants to a caged dog.

  I could barely nod in response. Having her that close to my face with her aura flowing over the top of me made my bones ache. It even made my eye sockets hurt and teeth that were pulled or lost when I was a kid ache. She had so much magic flowing from her that I could live five lifetimes and I wouldn’t even begin to fathom it. It dripped along my skin as if I stood in a steady summer rain.

  “Maebe knows her Tell,” she whispered her voice low and secretive. “Found the great book, did I, when I was but a youngling. Learned many things. Aye. Many interesting things,” she nodded. “I am the Watcher of the Way, Rihker. Much to learn, have you,” she said with another nod before she turned back to her cauldron.

  “Okay,” I said as I stood and paced near her and her bubbling cauldron, trying to take it all in. “Say you’re right--which I still have my doubts. But, say you’re right and I’ve somehow set this prophesy in motion. What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

  “Hone your Tells. Seek the Way. Find the Book,” she chanted.

  I felt like I was listening to the recital of an advocacy pitch. One that was passed on and on to all the ne`er-do-wells. Was this what they taught in their schools? Seek the Way--but which Way? Hell, I was lucky to know where my damned keys were when I got up in the morning. How the hell was I supposed to seek the Way, or find some ancient book?

  Maebe took a ladle and filled a cup that was on a shelf above the cauldron, then turned and shoved it at me. “Drink this now, and we will seek your path.”

  I stared at the wooden cup, filled with some strange, swirling blue liquid. It bubbled and fizzed and smelled grossly like swamp water; as if all the creatures that had ever lived had been boiled alive and their essence now filled this cup. I put my hands up to fend off the foul-smelling brew.