Shadows of the Realm (The Circle of Talia)

by Lister, Dionne

  Avruellen was relieved when the Dragon God’s booming voice replied, although the relief was short-lived. “I have no desire to change the course of your future, humans. Besides it is your future, not mine. The gods have heretofore refrained from interfering in the fate of Talia. It has always been that the strong survive, the weak perish.” This was not the answer they had expected.

  “It was the promise of the gods that Talia would never succumb to the Gormons. The amulet was given to us as a precaution and we have need. Would you deny us the promise you originally made?” her desperation and anger evident to Drakon.

  “You speak true, child of Talia. However, the promise was made by your gods, not Me. What they promise is none of my affair.” Avruellen was about to answer when Drakon spoke again. “It is my thought however that without the beasts of this world in existence, my children would not have food. It has also been requested by Zimapholous Accorterroza that we preserve Talia in its present form, unsullied by the Gormons. It is the promise I have made to my children, which I am upholding at the present time. I will grant you this one favour, but do not expect that I will ever have the inclination to assist you in the future. I also require a favour from the humans in time. Do I have your promise of a favour in return?”

  Avruellen was taken aback. What would the Dragon God require in return? The realmist expected the price would be high. She supposed she would have regrets but decided it was wise to grant the promise. If they didn’t have the amulet to help them, nobody would be there to grant favours. “I hereby promise the Dragon God his favour as our need is great. Thank you.”

  Without another word Drakon breathed his fire into Quie.

  The fire rushed through the Second Realm and into Augustine. She swayed on her feet, but held fast. The fire engulfed the wooden bowl and its contents. At that instant they all heard a loud crack. The first link, locking the amulet’s abilities, was broken, but whilst the fire lingered they had to maintain their links to the Second Realm, or they may yet fail. In the moment before the fire died out, time seemed to stop. A second sickly green corridor had opened up and had followed the fire to Augustine. She was horrified as she realised that somehow the Gormons had found a way through from the Third Realm via their links with the Second. If the Gormons touched the quartz they may snatch it away, or destroy it. Augustine tore her hands from her friends and ceased the flow through the Second Realm. The violent separation threw Bronwyn and Avruellen to the ground.

  It worked. The fire had gone out and the bowl was gone. The quartz lay untouched, unchanged on the dirt floor. Augustine was battling what was seeping through the sickly green corridor and even though the others had broken their bonds, it appeared the Gormon priest had enough power to hold open the link with Augustine. She was trapped.

  Avruellen and Bronwyn lay dazed on the floor. They could do nothing but watch as the Gormon priest consumed their friend. It sucked her blood out and up the ephemeral tunnel as Augustine screamed. Crude, rasping laughter reverberated around the room. Her face caved in on itself. When the light eventually retracted, Augustine’s body was like a macabre, deflated wine skin, seeping a few forgotten drops of red fluid into the dirt. The Gormon had sucked out her lifeblood and bones. The sweet, caring person they had known was gone. It had all happened in a matter of seconds. Avruellen and Bronwyn lay unmoving, staring at the carnage. Within minutes they stood gingerly, leaning on each other for support.

  “Bronwyn, you must pick up the quartz. None must touch it now but you.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “To tell you the truth, I think so, but I’m not sure.”

  “Oh.” Bronwyn crouched over the stone on the ground. It was pretty in its own way. She studied it for a while before she had the courage to touch it. She looked inside the quartz: something lay within. Dark red, like an old scab, it was the shape of a small black-eyed bean. “What’s inside the quartz?”

  “A drop of blood.”

  “Whose?”

  “Or what. None of us know.”

  Bronwyn took a deep breath and reached her hand to the chain, which was still as shiny and gold as before. She exhaled when nothing happened, and realised her neck was sore with tension. She stood and lifted it over her head. When it settled on her chest, nothing happened. Avruellen started laughing at the anticlimax; a crazy cackle of sound. She continued until she was sobbing. They had lost a friend for this. How many more of those she loved, and even those she didn’t, would die before they were finished?

  Avruellen hobbled over to her friend. She had never seen anything like it. Could the mess on the floor have been human? It was impossible to tell. Always the practical one, Avruellen asked Bronwyn to help dig a hole. They would have to bury the carcass in the basement as some of the evil they had encountered may still be active on her body. There was a chance it wasn’t, but they were dealing with the unknown and couldn’t take the risk. They cried as they dug. When Augustine’s remains were safely in the ground, Avruellen gave her their blessing and thanked her friend for her sacrifice. Only two women returned upstairs. Avruellen locked the basement through the Second Realm so that it could never be opened again. The women bathed and changed before going to bed.

  Avruellen was desperately sorry they had come to seek her friend’s help. She was unsettled at the reminder that she could yet bring death to other friends and to Bronwyn. As a realmist, she knew their sacrifices were for the good of the world, it just didn’t feel very good right now. Avruellen would have to tell Frederick in the morning. Did he even know Augustine’s secret?

  She would have liked to leave Pollona now, but Corrille was dead to the world, and with the gates being guarded because of some imaginary black creature, they would look very suspicious riding out with Corrille draped unconsciously over her horse. They would just have to wait until morning.

  They both had nightmares. When Bronwyn woke she thought she might have been better off having had no sleep at all. She kept reliving the moment Augustine’s life was extracted. It was horrific: she had become a twisted caricature of a human. Bronwyn knew it was going to be an effort to steer her thoughts in a different direction, but tried anyway. Corrille shared her room, and Bronwyn was pleased when her friend stirred.

  They dressed and went downstairs. Unsure of what to tell Corrille, Bronwyn said nothing and figured Avruellen could come up with some excuse or other. The girls set to preparing breakfast from yesterday’s ample leftovers. “Where’s your aunt and her friend?”

  “They probably went to see Frederick or something. I told them to let us sleep in.” This satisfied Corrille, who was preparing tea.

  Avruellen, in the meantime, had gone next door. She had gone early to see Frederick, but possessed no idea how to start or what to say. When he opened the door and saw her face, he knew something was wrong. He invited Avruellen in. When they were both seated he asked her directly. “Is Augustine… gone?” He couldn’t bring himself to say the other word. His frame sagged when Avruellen nodded. He pulled an envelope from his pocket, his words strained against the need to cry. “She gave me this and asked me to open it if anything happened. Please read it to me. I don’t think I can bear to.”

  Avruellen gently removed the paper from his fingers. Her voice wavered as she read. “To my dearest Fred. I asked you not to open this unless I was dead. I guess it has come to pass. Do not cry too long for me; I wouldn’t have changed anything. My life has been full, and in dying last night I have given my life, as promised so many years ago, to the realmists’ cause. Yes, love, I am a realmist. Do not be surprised, as I’m sure you’ve had your suspicions. Anyway, do not blame Avruellen for what has happened. I can assure you she would have put herself in my place if there had been a choice. All I can ask of you is to support Avruellen and her niece in any way you can. I must ask that you never speak of the truth of my death, or who I really was, to anyone. I’m sorry to demand this burden of you. Know that I loved you dearly and will hold you in my heart forever. Tell my chil
dren I died from the pox and my remains had to be cremated. I leave you my house and everything in it. I hope there is some comfort in this letter. Goodbye Love.” It was signed at the bottom in Augustine’s precise, flowing script.

  Frederick was openly crying by the end. Avruellen returned the letter to his tear-stained hand.

  “I gave her a proper burial ceremony but I’ve sealed the basement forever. What she says is true; she died for the most worthy cause there could ever be. She will never be forgotten, and I will make sure her bravery does not go unnoticed. We will all miss her. I will not ask anything of you, except your silence. We’ll leave after lunch. You’re welcome to join us for the meal.” Avruellen knew her words meant little. Nothing could bring Augustine back.

  “Thanks. I would rather be alone. Tell me one thing,” his eyes pleaded, “was it quick?”

  “Yes, very. She didn’t suffer,” Avruellen lied. Augustine had suffered in the moments she had battled to preserve herself, knowing what it was she was fighting, and the inevitable conclusion. There was no need to burden Frederick with that information. “Goodbye, and thank you, for everything.” Frederick didn’t answer; he sat staring into his lap. Avruellen showed herself out.

  Avruellen returned to her friend’s cottage to find the girls eating breakfast. When Bronwyn saw her, she immediately poured her a cup of tea. Her Aunt spoke in her mind. “Have you said anything.”

  “No, I thought I’d leave that to you.”

  Corrille spoke: “Where’s Augustine?”

  “I walked to the gates with her this morning. She had to leave suddenly because one of her grandchildren is quite ill in Bayerlon. She insisted we at least stay and eat lunch. She apologised about having to leave. She’d been looking forward to spending more time with us.”

  “I hope her grandchild is OK. She’s a really nice lady.”

  “Yes, Corrille, she is.” Avruellen tried to force down a fruit tart, for appearances. It caught in her throat and only made it to her stomach on the following swallow of tea.

  “Do you need to get anything more before we leave?”

  “No, Bronwyn. Augustine told me to take whatever we needed. I’ll leave her some money. It’s not far to Vellonia, a few days at the most.”

  Corrille pushed back her chair, stood and stamped her foot. “Are you mad? That’s the dragon city. No one goes there. We’ll be eaten alive. If you think I’m going with you, you’ve got another thing coming.”

  Avruellen cursed herself for her loose tongue. She didn’t have the energy to argue with her niece’s rude friend so she spoke to Bronwyn instead. “You never mentioned that your friend was a coward. I guess we’ll have to go without her.”

  Bronwyn saw what her Aunt was doing and played along. “I know. It’s a disappointment. Oh well, I suppose we can’t expect everyone to be as brave as us. Don’t worry, Aunt, I’m happy to go.” Bronwyn looked up to see Corrille staring wide-eyed at them. “Is it OK if we leave you here? We’ll have to take your horse of course, since my Aunt paid for it. I’m sure Frederick could get you a job as a tavern wench or something. Maybe you’ll end up marrying one of the farmers around here, having a few kids, and helping on the farm. That would be a nice life.” Bronwyn knew full well that her friend would not last one day living on a farm. She wanted to meet a handsome, rich young man and spend her life being spoiled and adored.

  Corrille weighed up her options, deciding she would go only as far as she felt comfortable. Maybe she would run away from them just before Vellonia. “OK. I’ll come, but you must promise the dragons won’t hurt me.”

  “I promise I will protect you, however, I can’t make a promise on their behalf.”

  “What do you mean, on their behalf.”

  “Dragons are sensitive, thinking creatures, just as we are. They are intelligent and make their own decisions. If I tried to tell one what to do it would probably burn me to a crisp. Be happy with my promise of protection. It’s the best offer you’ll get.”

  Bronwyn nodded in agreement. “Come on Corrille. When we return to Bayerlon, as surely we must one day, what a grand tale we’ll have to tell all the young nobles. They could not help but be impressed by a young woman who’s brave and worldly enough to say she’s been to Vellonia. I bet none of the other women they’ve met have been there.”

  “You’re probably right. It would be rather impressive, wouldn’t it?” Corrille was now happy with the arrangement as she imagined the admiration she would reap from recounting her adventures.

  They spent the time until lunch resting and preparing for the next leg of their journey. Avruellen sent the girls to groom and saddle the horses whilst she packed food and precooked their dinner. Tonight would be spent under the stars. Avruellen was itching to leave. On arrival she had brought only good memories of this place. Now she would take away bad. She was desperate to discover what had gone wrong—if she couldn’t work it out, it might happen again. She couldn’t risk Bronwyn. If they lost her, they lost everything.

  Last night had been the first time Avruellen had heard the voice of a Gormon. The memory sent uncontrollable shivers cascading down her body. It could be a sound they would have to get used to. What was to become of them? She had felt useless, standing right there within touching distance, and still unable to act. The helplessness she felt whilst watching her friend die was something she never wanted to repeat. What good were their powers if they couldn’t use them when it counted the most, to save a friend?

  Lunch was a silent affair. Immediately after lunch they collected the horses and made their way to the gates. The guardhouse was still in the grip of phantom fear, and Avruellen had to ask them to open the gates. This was done quickly, the closing even quicker. They rode around the outskirts of Pollona and continued south. The land rolling in front of them was gently hilly and verdant. Close to the city a patchwork of farms lay neatly, their lush square paddocks sewn together with low stone walls. By the time the cool, late afternoon air caressed their faces, the farms had thinned considerably and were eventually replaced by forest.

  Flux rejoined their party at the southern end of the city where Avruellen stopped and jumped off her horse. She embraced the fox, drawing comfort from her longtime companion.

  What’s wrong dearest sister? Flux’s concern stemmed from the fact that Avruellen was not emotionally demonstrative, and he had felt some distress through their bond the previous night.

  We partly activated the quartz.

  That’s a good thing, isn’t it?

  Yes, and no. A Gormon priest somehow managed to tap into Augustine’s corridor of power. It consumed her. The only thing left was her skin. It was horrible. I’ll never forget it as long as I live. She buried her face in his soft fur.

  I’m sorry. You know we’re all destined for death, one day. It is just a matter of how and when. You will meet her again. Avruellen nodded.

  Corrille and Bronwyn had ridden a small way ahead. “What’s wrong with your Aunt? She seems, well, not quite herself today.” Corrille was quick to sense when others were vulnerable and take advantage.

  “I don’t know. She seems OK to me; her usual tough self.”

  “Tough?”

  “Yes. You are seeing her other side today—she can also be sensitive. Maybe Augustine’s situation brings back memories for her. I know she must’ve had family somewhere, but I’ve never seen them and she never speaks of them. I guess they all died and the memories are too painful.”

  Bronwyn was referring, in part, to her own parents, whom she couldn’t remember. Even after everything that had happened they were still on her mind. Had they known Avruellen was a realmist? Would they have approved of what Bronwyn was?

  Avruellen resumed the lead and they continued riding until dusk. There were plenty of places to set up camp with an abundance of trees. They chose a spot a few metres inside the tree line. It was slightly elevated and gradually fell away on the other side to a small stream. They resumed their routine with a minimum of fuss. It wasn
’t long before they were sitting around a cheerful fire, enjoying the smells of a pre-prepared dinner warming up, which gave their camp a homey feel.

  Corrille was not as comfortable with travelling and sleeping outside as her companions, and Bronwyn noticed she jumped from the most benign noises. “Do you think there’s any truth to that rumour about the wild beast?”

  “There’s usually a smidgeon of truth to any rumour, but also a lot of exaggeration. I wouldn’t worry too much. Not many animals would bother eating humans, except, maybe a bear.” Bronwyn almost smiled as she remembered her Aunt’s story about Millie.

  “What if there’s a bear out there?”

  “If there’s anything out there Flux will warn us in plenty of time.”

  Shortly after dinner everyone sought their beds. Avruellen had put Minx in the tea, an herb renown for its ability to relax and assist sleep. Neither woman wanted to hear the evil laughter in their dreams, or watch Augustine die again and again. Flux stood guard while they slept. He was used to going days without sleep. It only happened when they travelled, besides, today he had slept from dawn until Avruellen had left the city.

  He sat a few metres from the sleeping women, his ears attuned to the resonances of the forest. The scratching of small rodents ferreting around, and nocturnal birds brushing the leaves as they swooped past in search of food, reached the fox’s ears. Occasionally there came the sound of a larger animal slowly pushing its way through the undergrowth. One sound that caught Flux’s attention was the barely audible pad of four careful paws. He pointed his nose in the direction and sniffed, not believing what he sensed. If his nose was right, which it always was, he smelled an animal that did not exist in Wyrden—or even Veresia any more. The animal had been extinct for years, hunted to death for its luxurious black coat.