Ghalien

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  "These will be your chambers for the duration of your stay," the taller of the two said. "There is a bell in each room, in case you need anything, and a privy every ten rooms." She indicated the doors on the opposite side of the hallway.

  "Thank you," Enorah said as the girls began opening the five doors belonging to the rooms that would be ours.

  I peeked into the first room and then the next two. They appeared to be identical: a roundish chamber with a single bed, a large storage chest and a washstand. Choosing the third opened door, I stepped in and looked around. A sizeable window was carved out of the wall, letting in plenty of natural light, and that rare quartz gave the space a warm, nearly feminine feel. If not for the simple furnishings, I would have called it too feminine. I glanced up and noticed several holes in the ceiling and realized they had been cut into the tunnel to bring light into the hallway. I smiled to myself. The Amsihria's obsession with natural light created a wonderful effect and helped do away with the feeling of living in a cave, but it might just have weakened the internal structure of the mountain. I sure hoped the walls didn't come crashing down on us at night.

  "Cade?" I heard Enorah's voice from the hallway.

  "Here," I answered, shrugging off my pack and setting it down atop the chest.

  I moved to gaze out the window and almost let out a sigh of appreciation. Below I could see the trail we had taken, disappearing beneath the green canopy of the aspen trees. Beyond that lay the Amsihr Mountains, piled high atop one another like children crowding around a table full of sweets. A gentle breeze rustled the treetops and the joyful sound of their secret chatter rose to meet me. For a few moments I closed my eyes and breathed in the clean scent of the mountains, letting the song of the forest fill my ears.

  I felt Enorah's presence beside me before she spoke.

  "This place is more agreeable than I expected, don't you think?"

  Nodding, I turned and looked at her. "Much more," I admitted, trying not to let the memory of the Maithar's inspection ruin this moment of peace.

  Enorah took a deep breath and let it out. "Almost makes me want to put off hunting the draghan," she murmured.

  I grunted my agreement. It would be nice to rest here for a week and not think about the world outside, but unfortunately, we had a job to do.

  "We'll just have to see how it goes. Perhaps the draghan will stay out of everyone's way for the next several days."

  "Maybe," Enorah answered with a grin.

  Ten

  Hunt

  The draghan, it turned out, decided to meet us halfway. For the next three days Enorah, Rhyne, Devlin, Fenrah and I enjoyed the hospitality of the Amsihria. The Maithar and Darah Caleana joined us that first night in a massive dining hall on a level below the rooms. Once again, the huge chamber was infused with the light of the world outside through the many tunnels and carved windows I had come to recognize in this strange and enchanting place. By the time we were seated and enjoying our meal, the sun had begun to set, so the youngest among the women, novices that Jarda and Caleana called leina, took up the task of lighting candles and lanterns. We spoke a little amongst ourselves, trading our tales and learning more about the Amsihria. They lived a more restrictive lifestyle than what I was used to and although I didn't find myself envious of their rituals and practices, I did find them interesting. The novices and older initiates were required to rise early and pay homage to Eile.

  "If the spirit of our great world is not given her due respect, then she may take her rage out in the form of a powerful tempest or unyielding thunderstorm," Caleana asserted, stabbing at a small red tomato with her knife.

  "Are you implying Eile takes her wrath out on us?" Rhyne asked.

  Caleana set down the knife, tomato still impaled, and lifted an incredulous eyebrow in his direction.

  The younger O'Brolaigh brother squirmed under her scrutiny.

  Jarda lifted her goblet and took a sip of spiced mead. "What the Darah is trying to say," she said as she placed the delicate vessel back down on the table, "is that Eile's spirit becomes overwhelmed and troubled by the evil deeds that take place in this world."

  She gave me a quick, jolting glance and I set my fork down in front of me, my dinner momentarily forgotten.

  The Maithar looked away and addressed Rhyne again, her smooth features hiding her age. "She does not wish any of us harm, but sometimes the anguish of the suffering is too much to bear, and this is expressed through the severe storms we often experience. The job of the Amsihria is to help ease her during these moments, and thus, take some of the unrest upon ourselves. That way the good people of Eile suffer less for it."

  Rhyne still looked a bit confused, so he glanced at his brother. Devlin only shrugged. He didn't fully understand either.

  "You act as a shoulder to cry on," Fenrah spoke up.

  The Maithar narrowed her eyes and smiled again, and for a moment I was reminded of my own mother. Shaking off the tremor that ran through me, I got back to work on finishing my meal.

  "I would say, my dear Fenrah, that your assessment is a very good one. Our actions are very similar and produce a comparable result. Although we cannot stop the storm completely, we ease its passing on both the people of the Otherworld and the spirit of Eile herself."

  We descended into companionable silence, only talking to the person just beside us. By the time my comrades and I made it back to our suites it was dark.

  For the next few days we were permitted to explore our surroundings, though only the chambers, hallways and tunnels our guides led us down. Every morning we were greeted by a pair of leina, always different from the day before. I couldn't tell if this was done for our benefit or theirs, but I had a sneaking suspicion that Maithar Jarda did this so the girls got a chance to take a good look at their guests. They seemed to keep their distance from me, eyeing me warily and sticking close to Enorah and Fenrah. At first, I figured this was because they weren't used to the company of men, but when I later noticed them laughing and talking with Devlin and Rhyne, I realized I'd been wrong.

  Unwanted, the Morrigan whispered into my mind right at that moment, Ehriad . . .

  This whole reading my thoughts business was getting old. I brushed her voice aside and growled back, The O'Brolaigh brothers are much more personable than me. And closer in age to the girls. Besides, I'm sure Caleana and her superior have told them all about my riastrad. I can't hold their aloofness toward me against them.

  Besides, my conscience continued before I could stop it, I have no interest in them.

  An image of Meghan rose in my mind and I couldn't tell if it was from my own conjuring or the Morrigan's. I ached to keep that image with me, to close my eyes and gaze upon Meghan's face, but I feared what it might turn into if I did.

  The Morrigan cackled with glee in her shil-sciar voice and I felt suddenly sick.

  She is not for you, Caedehn. You know that. Why suffer? Why torment yourself? Look at you, the bastard son of a forgotten renegade warrior and a mother who never wanted you.

  I should not have let her words hurt me, but they did. Despite the fact that the Morrigan was evil and never once acted as a mother should, a child never stops hoping for his mother's love.

  I could have let the soul-deep ache spread and poison me, but I didn't. Taking a sharp breath I sent, Be gone, hag, and know that you will never break me. You will never learn Meghan's secrets through me.

  Even as I thought the words I could see the little spider waiting to pounce should any of those secrets spill free. So far, my mother had only tormented me with her words and nightmares, and I had been careful to keep Meghan from my mind. Other than my conversation with Enorah the other night, I had managed to keep her memory distant, as much as it pained me to do so. Hissing in anger, the Morrigan's presence vanished and I felt my muscles lose some of their tension.

  A sudden wave of raised voices rolled down the stone hallway and brushed away the remnants of my internal struggle. I snapped my head up, blinking and l
ooking around. Beside me stood Rhyne and Devlin, with Fenrah and Enorah leaning over the two young novices who had been our guides that morning. We were in the Amsihria's library and the leina were showing the women some ancient scrolls. This room was darker than most, but still had a large, circular opening carved into one wall and fitted with a beautiful stained-glass window. The light from outside painted the room in a kaleidoscope of colors, but at the moment they seemed to shatter as a frantic group of people came pouring into the library.

  Caleana, followed by a dozen or so novices, crowded the room's entrance. The Darah looked less in control than what I'd seen for the past few days, her hands clasped in front of her and her lips forming a straight, stern line. It was in her eyes, however, that the difference showed the most. Panic. Sheer panic. I knew that emotion so well I had no trouble recognizing it.

  Before she even opened her mouth to speak, I knew what she would say.

  "The draghan," I cut in, my own voice low. Already, I could feel my glamour surging and I had to make an effort to force it down.

  The Darah clamped her mouth shut and nodded, her eyes shining. A low, terrified murmur was traded around the room and I turned to look at my sister. Enorah had forgotten the scrolls. Her own gray-green eyes darkened and she stepped closer to me. I turned back to face Caleana.

  "Where?" I demanded.

  "The Maithar awaits your immediate presence in the receiving hall."

  I stepped past her, barely avoiding the girls clustered in the doorway as I left the room, my pace brisk but not quite a jog. As I moved down the hallway I could hear my companions following after me as the Amsihria burst into anxious conversation.

  Devlin jogged to catch up to me, his hand already clasping the hilt of the short sword hanging from his belt. "Where did they last see it?" he asked. "If I know where it's been, I can pick up the trail."

  "I don't know," I answered as we turned a corner into a larger hallway, "I assume Maithar Jarda will tell us as soon as we get to the entrance hall."

  Several agonizing seconds later we came bursting into the grand hall to find the Maithar pacing in front of her stone throne while the rest of the women mingled about, too upset and rattled to bother with the decorum of lining up.

  As soon as she saw me and Enorah, Jarda stopped her pacing and straightened. Although her pale eyes held the same fear as the Darah's, there was relief there, too.

  "What happened?" I barked.

  An outburst of voices bombarded my ears. Everyone was trying to explain at once.

  "Silence!"

  The Maithar's dominating voice lifted to the ceiling of the cavern and I suspected she had used glamour to enhance it. When the ground and the walls stopped vibrating, utter silence fell upon us.

  "Cathaid," she said in a more normal voice.

  A nervous girl that looked to be about seventeen years of age stepped away from the other grey-clad women. Her face was tearstained and her eyes red. She clasped her hands in front of her, wringing them in an anxious pattern that put me on edge. Everyone stepped back to give her room and she came to stop before Jarda, descending in a wobbly curtsy before straightening once again.

  "Tell our warriors what you saw."

  Cathaid swallowed and nodded, then in a weak voice said, "Tabrine and I were fetching water from the well room for the kitchen this morning and something from the Deep Dark made a rumbling noise. I wanted to leave but Tabrine said we would be punished if we didn't get the water, so we lowered our buckets into the well."

  The girl looked up, her face pale and her eyes shining with tears.

  "Continue," the Maithar urged, her voice clipped and unkind.

  Beside me, my sister tensed and I could almost feel her glamour flare with her anger. I didn't blame her. Impatience was the last thing one should employ when dealing with a terrified girl.

  Cathaid took a deep, shuddering breath and rasped, "It got her. Before we could pull the buckets up, the monster came out from the Dark Deep and grabbed her."

  The girl had started to sob, her words barely getting out. "There was so much bl-blood. And she scr-screamed and I ran!"

  Cathaid fell to the floor, her body wracked with anguish. Three of her friends rushed forward to comfort her.

  "Take Cathaid back to her chambers and stay with her," Jarda said to the girls. "You five," she indicated me and my companions, "come with me."

  Silently, we followed her through a door behind the dais. The room we stepped into was spacious and contained a desk and several chairs. A fireplace, now barren for the summer months, took up one side of the room while several of those tunnel windows pocked the opposite wall. Jarda went straight for a cabinet with glass doors behind her desk and pulled out a bottle and a few glasses. She brought them back to her desk and twisted the cork free with a resounding pop. The liquid she poured into the glasses was a deeper golden-green color than the mead we'd enjoyed during the evening meals.

  "Merynth," she said when she found us eyeing the bottle curiously. "A rich liquor fermented from honey and a rare fruit found only in these mountains."

  She pushed the glasses toward us and sat down in the stuffed chair behind her desk. I picked one up and sniffed the contents. It smelled sweet like mead, but an underlying bitter scent lingered. Curious, I took a sip and immediately felt the sharp bite of an unfamiliar, but pleasant, taste that reminded me of citrus fruit. The drink itself burned down my throat, only to be followed by a soothing cool sensation.

  Devlin and his brother drank theirs next, seeming to relish the savory flavor. Enorah and Fenrah were a little more reluctant, but eventually they finished their glasses as well.

  Jarda smiled. "I thought you might need that before chasing after the draghan."

  Enorah placed her tumbler on the desktop with a clank. "What did the girl mean by the 'Deep Dark'?"

  Jarda stiffened for a moment, her fingers digging into the plush velvet of her chair before taking a breath and letting the tension ease out of her.

  "Domhain Dubh, or the Deep Dark as it is most commonly known. When we first explored the tunnels of this vast system of caverns," she waved her hand around, indicating her surroundings, "we knew we needed a well in order to make the best use of this place. After a thorough search for a water source, we found one in an underground river that runs deep through the heart of the mountain. The only problem is the cavern that acts as the best source to draw from the river also connects to a tunnel that leads even deeper into the mountain. Many of my predecessors claim this tunnel leads to the very heart of Eile and that wild, untamed magic runs rampant there. Brima, the Maithar before me, believed that the spirits of our dead haunt the chambers below."

  Jarda paused and glanced up at us. "She believed that they rose from the deep only to enter into our well room and possess our leina."

  "And what do you believe?" Fenrah asked, her dark eyes narrowed.

  The Maithar cast her a quelling glance, then sighed and said, "In my opinion, it is all silly superstition. But the tunnels run deep enough and remain forever dark and damp from the river, so they are the perfect hiding place for a ground draghan."

  I had to agree, though it wouldn't surprise me if some evil magic ruled this Domhain Dubh of theirs. I had seen and experienced things that most Faelorehn would never dream of.

  "What about the girl, Tabrine? Is there any hope for rescue?"

  Jarda turned toward my sister and shrugged. "Highly unlikely, and at the moment I'm more concerned with getting rid of this draghan than wasting any more time trying to save one soul when many are at risk."

  Chills of distaste and slight horror prickled my skin. This woman was as heartless as my mother.

  "So, you'll just let her die? You'll allow her to suffer a cruel fate without even trying to help her?"

  Jarda considered that question for all of ten seconds before answering, "What you don't know about Tabrine is that she isn't truly one of us. She was not born of one of our Daughters and it is unclear how pure her parentag
e is. For all I know, one of her parents might have been mortal."

  "You yourself have mortal ancestry," my sister hissed, her anger growing into a near physical presence, "how can you condemn something of your own heritage?"

  Jarda regarded her with cool eyes. "Long ago, many of our daughters were thrown into the mortal land as punishment for disobedience."

  She paused and glanced at me. Well now, I wonder who it was who felt jilted enough to cast young women from their own land . . .

  "The women were enslaved by a band of mortal men and returned carrying their children."

  She glanced up, looking each of us in the eye, her chin stubborn, her jaw set. "So you see, a very minute amount of mortal blood runs in our veins, but not by choice. Mortal men are all cowardly bastards who take advantage of frightened women, and I see no reason why any woman who would consort with them by her own free will should be viewed any differently."

  "You have every right to be angry for your predecessors' sake, but what you say is not truth," Devlin growled, the rage in his voice cutting through the tense air like a finely honed blade.

  The Maithar narrowed her gaze as if really seeing Devlin for the first time. After a moment's consideration, her eyes widened slightly and a smug smile graced her face. "Your eyes do not shift like those of the other Faelorehn."

  Devlin took a tiny step back and drew in a short breath, not loud enough for anyone to hear but those right beside him.

  One corner of the Maithar's mouth tugged upward. "Ah, you are Lorehnin."

  She spoke as if the word was a bad taste in her mouth.

  "And one of your parents, your mother or father, debased themselves and joined with a mortal. You see, our ancestors had no choice, having been forced into their unfortunate situation, but you are young enough that your Faelorehn parent decided to cross over into the Otherworld. To choose a mortal over one of their own kind. How deplorable."

  The jibe, although aimed at Devlin, struck me as well and somewhere behind me Rhyne snarled in rage and Fenrah had to grab his arm to keep him from tumbling forward.