“Damn it, Silas. You cannot in good conscience truly believe the peacock prince!”
“Then what happened to Twiten?”
Silas looked angry, as if Falco did not understand the magnitude of the assault. The fact pleased Cyaika.
Falco stared down at Twiten. Taking a deep breath, he blinked several times.
“Your Highness, are you ill?” Johannes sprang toward his prince.
Cyaika watched Falco wave his Euchoun back. Disconcerting, she also saw the Euchoun extend his hand. She felt the effect…the repel of her magic.
Anger filled her. These fools had had no knowledge…no suspicion of her ruse. Now, Falco’s Euchoun appeared to have had misgivings, at least that something was amiss, for now her husband seemed to have recovered his wits.
“It is nothing,” Falco declared. “Tell me once more, Silas, what gives you pause?”
“Much.” Silas looked Falco straight into his eyes. “To start—why is Grandfather not here?”
“He has pled illness.”
“Grandfather should be here even in illness,” Silas protested. “Stop denying the obvious. Twiten has been missing for over a week. Then, he appears stabbed, bleeding to death. Something is wrong…terribly wrong.”
“There is.” His voice in agreement was thick with anguish. “It is only a matter of time before Twiten will die. With him, his shields will be no more.”
“The Forbidden Forest…Kela.” Silas whispered her name. “It is time to recall her. We need to convince Grandfather of the urgency.”
Cyaika felt herself being pulled back to her physical self. She could not hear the reply. The blood spell was broken…which meant only one thing.
Twiten was dead.
* * * *
Cyaika stood in silence within the Chamber of the Lost Soul. She raged.
“We need to tread with care,” the woman, who played the role of her mother, said. Isolde was her true name. “Their suspicions have been raised.”
Cyaika looked back at Isolde. Asmeodai had personally selected the woman to be sent with her through the portal. He sent only his most trusted. Isolde came from one of the oldest Arachnidan Houses, one that had stayed true to Asmeodai.
Before the Witheleghe invasion, Isolde had killed her own husband to ensure Asmeodai’s success. Her husband had spoken against the aggression. Asmeodai accepted no resistance.
Isolde was not the only one to have killed. Cyaika had killed any who came between her and Asmeodai, even her own sister.
Asmeodai had claimed Cyaika as his mate. In turn, he had given to her the secret to be immortal. The two were bonded for an eternity.
Cyaika knew her mate well. He would become enraged when he learned she wed a Sordarin, no matter of the necessity. Yet, it would not be she he took his anger out upon.
Falco would suffer a torturous death.
Until then, she would enjoy her diversion.
Cyaika thought for a long time before answering Isolde. At times, the woman so annoys me. She reminded herself to control her anger. She had need of Isolde.
“All is not gloom, Isolde. Far from it.”
“How can you say such? You did not manage to perform the neko drugi. His magic is lost.”
You do not have to tell me my frustration. I watched him leave this world and could do nothing to gather his essence of magic. She took a long look at Isolde. The woman had the same desire as she—to conquer the Sordarins. She had gone through much with Isolde after the portal closed.
Neither were helpless females.
They had stayed true to the plan, having managed to become royal servants before accessing the necessary identities. Cyaika had used neko drugi, Asmeodai’s magical means for becoming another.
It was the means of Isolde of becoming Lady Dogmar…the means for Zorius to become Earl Maester Halstead…the means for Cyaika to become Belasquita.
“I cannot undo what’s been done. Though, in truth, Twiten was greatly weakened before his escape,” Cyaika said, refraining from displaying the fury within her. “Did I not break the shield around King Edulf? Is King Edulf not now as a senile old man who cannot remember his own name?”
“Did you not tell me that Falco’s Euchoun shielded Falco from the charm you placed upon him? The Euchoun has probably already protected the king.”
“The Euchoun’s powers are limited,” Cyaika asserted. “For him to shield so many will also weaken the shield. Johannes also protected Sareta.”
“She doesn’t need him,” Isolde said. “She should be able to protect herself.”
“Sareta is not bold enough to use the power within her. She is scared of her own shadow.” A poisonous nastiness crept into Cyaika’s tone. “It is she who we will use to bring the Scarladin under Asmeodai’s reign.”
“Twiten is no longer there to protect her. Though, what of the other Euchoun? The one who defeated our Antimellsis.”
“I will see to the Euchoun,” Cyaika hissed. “This time there will be no mistakes.”
“How, my queen?”
“As I told you, Twiten’s death was not in vain. I know where they have hid their special Euchoun.” Cyaika laughed. “It is time to send out the Hallow Minions.”
KELA
Woven Tales
A change had occurred within Guilda. She held to Kela and wanted nothing more than to talk.
More than a month had passed since Cono departed. Kela prayed that someone, anyone, would appear. She heard nothing.
The Shimmering Pool reflected nothing. At times, it swirled and swirled, but the mirror to Yucca was covered with a black sheen.
Fear grew inside Kela, but she swore she would not let Guilda suspect their circumstance. It would serve no purpose.
Her health was failing, which caused great concern within Kela.
At night, Kela spent her time by Guilda’s bed. She slept on a chair with her head on the mattress, afraid she would not hear Guilda if she had need of her.
So it was on this night.
Outside, the winds howled and snow fell. Winter had come.
Inside, a fire burned warmly in the hearth. Kela had brought in enough wood to last the night. She had only to keep feeding the fire every few hours.
Dinner still sat in the pot over the fire, potato soup. Kela had tried to feed her nurse, but Guilda had eaten little.
It surprised Kela, then, to be wakened by a gentle tap on her head.
“Kela,” Guilda called. “I have need of you.”
“What can I do?” Kela rubbed her eyes. “Do you want a drink…soup?”
“I need only for you to listen.”
Kela saw Guilda had sat up straight in bed. Her old nurse had not the strength to do so for the last weeks. The dim in Guilda’s eyes brightened. Her voice was clear and firm.
“I am here,” Kela assured Guilda. “Talk to me.”
“There is much to say,” Guilda began. “Do not forget. Do not forget.”
“I won’t,” Kela promised.
“It is necessary for you to understand your heritage…your Witheleghean heritage.”
Kela was confused. Guilda had claimed Kela had no Witheleghean heritage. In her youth, Kela, along with Falco, had resisted Guilda’s lessons. Yet, Kela made no attempt to halt Guilda recanting tales of Witheleghe.
The offer Guilda gave to Kela, the knowledge of her mother’s family she had barely known, became of the utmost importance.
She listened.
Guilda relived past actions and deeds, the great and the atrocious. She told Kela of her golden days serving the Flandigana House.
“Witheleghe was a most beautiful land, with lush green life as far as your eyes could see. The rolling hills. The tall trees. The sky was clear and blue. There lay peace and tranquility. Greater wealth and splendor could never be found. In truth, the wealth the Withelegheans hold dear lies not within the comforts of our lives, but in the love of our people.
“When the three realms were created, Witheleghe was given magic. In the eyes of mortals,
magic was coveted and envied. But Withelegheans are peaceful people who only wanted the same for all.
“The first king of Witheleghe was wise. When the realm was created, King Dyrdahl was given powerful magic. Instead of holding to all the magic, he bestowed upon each head of Witheleghean House a single magic ability. These men are called Orimons, of which you know.
“What you have no knowledge of is King Dyrdahl dispersed magic to each member of Flandigana House. He made no difference to females. Your mother was a powerful Witheleghe. Her sacrifice of losing her power to marry your father was not forgotten. It was rewarded. Remember always that your magic will be lost if you marry one who is not Witheleghe.”
Not wanting to hurt Guilda, Kela said nothing. Her aged nurse thought she talked to Sareta.
Guilda continued, “Never forget that this magic, this gift, comes with a conscientiousness and a price paid if not followed. Sins of greed, envy, and lust threatens all that is good. Dark magic kills the soul. These became known as the Dark Hearts.
“When Nottesdone was built, Witheleghe forged together an alliance with the valiant Sordarin warriors, whose hearts were upon duty and honor. But the Dark Hearts allied with the Arachnidans. Battles ensued for hundreds of years, enduring war and slaughter. Many on both sides perished.
“Then through the darkness a light emerged, bright and shielding, given to neither Witheleghean nor Sordarin, but to all, to guard and protect the innocent. The legend holds when one is born such, there is only one purpose. When that time comes, it would be to protect against a foreboding danger, one that cannot be contained otherwise. Once before, one sacrificed for all to live in peace once more, and that peace reigned until the fall of Nottesdone.”
Kela gaped at Guilda in confusion. The poor dear was muddled.
“Envy and greed can corrupt even the good. Blame lies upon all, Withelegheans and Sordarins, for what is about to come. Know that your Uncle Thardalf betrayed your grandfather, King Darius. He plotted with Asmeodai and allowed the evil to enter Witheleghean. He has paid with his life. He is no more, but Asmeodai now possesses his body. Beware.
“Your family has been killed, all but one. Their magic lives inside of you. The land now lies encompassed within that darkness, crying out for the light to once again shine within. To be broken only when the wall around Asmeodai’s heart collapses and the realization of all he has done will evanesce his body, to fade away to nothingness.
“Only the barrier between the worlds kept Asmeodai from entering within this land, but he is searching for a way. He has his mate Cyaika laying a foundation. For she will call evil things forth and abode within menace and deceit.
“Heavy will be the hearts that do not heed the messages of these warnings. Sacrifices have already been made. Within your young life, your own mother and father have laid down their lives for the three of you. Nottesdone served as a barrier between the worlds. Eufamia closed the portal to protect Scarladin and keep Asmeodai within Witheleghe, but it will have to be reopened to win the war. But only when all is readied for such to reclaim Witheleghe and protect Scarladin! You will know, but courage will have to be fostered to declare such.
“It will be for this purpose that you will be called hither to answer. Say not much, but listen to all closely. Rumors will abound, with words whispered in secret. Perils will be many. Do not falter. There will be a hush as all eyes fall upon you. It will be at that time when all will be decided. Have faith and be strong, my child.”
Guilda’s words had worn her tired body. She closed her eyes.
Pulling her blanket snug around the thin woman’s body, Kela decided to give her time to rest and sleep. She had a need to ponder the old one’s words, for within Kela laid many questions.
Guilda’s story resonated within Kela. It was as though Guilda was talking to her and not Sareta as Kela had first thought.
No, Guilda lives to care for Sareta. Sareta is the special one, destined for greatness in Witheleghe. Yet, Guilda’s words were so ominous.
Kela left her then. She would not press Guilda. Her nurse was too ill, but in time she would talk with Guilda about her tale. She had no other option. She needed to know of what she spoke…of what she warned.
The fire in the hearth had worn down to embers, almost extinguished of its red glow. She fueled the fire and took the pot off. In the morning, Kela thought, she would ask Guilda.
A lit candle in hand, she made her way back to Guilda. As she set the candle down on the bedside table, Guilda looked so peaceful.
Taking a second glance, Kela saw.
Guilda’s chest did not heave upon a breath. Her head did not turn to Kela’s sound. Kela felt Guilda’s forehead.
Gone was the warmth of her body.
Kela’s heart ached in realization that Guilda was no longer within this world.
Fallen Shields
Four days passed since Guilda no longer breathed.
The winter weather had worsened. Outside, the snow deepened. Kela had made a trail to the castle, hoping against hope that some word would come from Yucca…from Cono.
None came.
Kela realized something was wrong. She was trapped, alone in the Forbidden Forest.
Guilda’s body lay within her bed. Kela had cleaned her and laid her out. The proud one deserved a ceremony for her burial. She had been the loyal servant of Kela’s mother and those before her.
Kela mourned, for she couldn’t honor Guilda as she deserved.
In the early morning sun, she walked to the silent Shimmering Pool. There was no scene within, nor was it beckoning to her.
Running her hand through her unruly hair, she contemplated her fate.
Instincts cried for her to leave. The only way was through Twiten’s portal, a dangerous venture. She now knew the portal’s location in the castle, but she hadn’t the Seeing Eye. If she went through, she had no control of where she would end up.
She stared into the dark water. Something had gone greatly awry, of that she was certain. She could wait no longer. She had to leave. She had to make it back to Yucca.
The question laid upon Kela was how? She had no means. The Shimmering Pool was no more. She could wait no longer until the king recalled her. There was no other choice, but to risk the portal.
First, she had to perform her duty to Guilda.
Guilda’s body needed to be burned to release her essence. At least, it was what she had read. She had never seen a Gud Ett funeral for the followers of Elohim.
The cultures between the two realms’ two lands were far different from each other. Scarladin buried their dead whereas Witheleghe burned the bodies to release the souls. Scarladin worshiped the Great One. Withelegheans kneeled to Elohim.
In her youth, all the gods confused Kela, but Guilda explained that it matters not what God was called...it matters only that he exists. Upon that declaration Kela held her faith.
Now though, her problem lay with Guilda’s body.
In her heart, the answer laid with being able to carry out her wishes.
In the far recesses of her mind, Kela saw a misty remembrance of a service held beside Guilda and Turstan in memory for her parents. With no bodies, Kela wondered briefly about her mother’s soul.
All she could recall clearly were the words Guilda read from the Gud Carte. Kela recalled clearly Guilda holding her Gud Carte, so worn on the edges from her daily readings. A tinge of guilt surged through Kela, for she had been delinquent in the habit herself.
Lost in the past, she stiffened, still as a statue, when she heard a rustling. Looking into the dark woods, she saw movement, undistinguishable figures merging toward the edge of the forest…toward her.
Gradually, the figures took the shapes of misty men from the past. She recognized the Wood Spirit known as Daigh. He blocked her path.
Another apparition floated closer to her. She raised her hand in defense.
“Put down your hand, Euchoun. Your powers will have little effect upon us and is not needed. Have y
ou not listened to us over the years? Have we not given guidance where you have had need?”
“You have brought all the Wood Spirits?” The question fell off her lips, more to confirm to herself their reality.
“Why then be fearful of us?”
“I am not afraid.”
“You should be afraid, Euchoun, but not of us. Do you understand why the forest is called the Forbidden Forest?” Daigh’s deep voice asked.
She had not given it much thought. “In truth, no. I was never told such. I know only that no one ventures to this place for fear of never returning and attacks from creatures within the Forbidden Forest. I have no such fear of creatures.”
“You have nothing to fear from us. We have protected you, guided you to your destiny.”
Her mood was not one for talking. “Tell me then, spirit, what do you want from me? I have much upon me.”
“We know of whom you are, Euchoun. We know of your pain. We had been called forth to guide you through your journey, give you the means to leave. You should have never returned.”
“It was not my wish to do so.”
“But it is within your means to have not done so. You believe you are to follow. Nay, Kela Monicalia Calledwdele, you were born to lead…to protect.”
The figure silenced for a long moment as the others floated about in an anxious manner. She could not see what caused their nervousness, but she heard a strange whistling in the wind.
Daigh told her, “You have not much time. Danger is coming. You need to leave, but not even you can enter these woods in hope of ever leaving. You know that the only way for one to come and go as one wants is through the air or the portal.
“You have darkness working against you. They want you dead. It will not be this day.”
“I don’t understand.” She looked all around her.
“While you have been here in the Forbidden Forest, there is one who has asked me to guide you. Understand as you travel your path, you are not alone. It will not be often that help will come in this manner, but accept that it does now.”
“Who are you, Daigh?”
The Path Now Turned Page 8