Before Richard could turn his power to fight the hidden creature, another shadowy wisp whipped out at the Druid’s legs, catching one of them and spinning Aderyn aside and into the air like a doll, her power dying. She landed hard and cried out, her robe blackening and falling away to dust where the ashterbach had touched her.
Richard rushed to stand over her, bringing the might of his magic to bear. The ashterbach hated light and fire—he’d give it both. One of the first spells he learned sprang to his lips, and with the Dark Thorn hot in his hands, he unleashed the hellish fury, a combination of fire bright like the sun and spreading from him in a ring. The ashterbach shrieked in response but it fought him, trying to find a way through his assault and into his defenses. It was all he could do to keep it at bay. He dropped to one knee, the magic Richard needed to keep the spell alive draining him. He knew he would not be able to keep them safe for much longer.
“Snedeker!” Richard roared, even as Aderyn added her magic to his own.
The fairy guide did not falter. He rose up into the air, wings ablur, sprinkling silver dust from his pack over the fallen Druid and the Heliwr, the magic forming a bright cocoon of light over their campsite. The ashterbach did not stop. Its darkness rammed the fairy’s shield even as the Druid and Heliwr regained their feet. The light began to dim then, dark tendrils from the ashterbach already breaking through the skein of magic.
If his spells, her power, and fairy magic couldn’t stop it, their death would come quicker than he ever imagined possible.
The fairy guide left him, flying back to the egg. Keeping the fount of his power battling the creature, Richard cursed that the fairy just wanted one more look at the egg before their end.
Surely the fairy sensed the knight’s power waned and would fail soon.
Nothing would be able to stop the ashterbach then.
Out of the corner of his eye, Richard saw the fairy untie the leather strings that held the egg within its pouch. Smooth crystal shown out of the bag, its depths growing brighter and brighter until even Richard had to look away. A swirl of orange, red, and yellow fire spilled into the night, seeking the ashterbach’s tendrils, bulldozing them aside and pushing them back toward the creature’s hidden space. The power from the egg slammed into the body of the ashterbach then, lifting it off the ground, the light crawling all over the creature like electricity over a magnet. The ashterbach let out an inhuman howl of anguish, the screech of a giant eagle filling the night with pain. Flung hard into the trees around it, the Unseelie beast fought to untangle itself, the fire running over its feathers and back. It got free and fled deeper into the forest, flames going with it.
The only sound in Richard’s ears was his own heavy, strained breathing. It caught in his chest when he saw the egg.
The crystal had gone dark.
“No, no, no,” Snedeker screamed with a panic Richard had never heard from his fairy companion before, tiny hands upon its smooth surface.
A spark rekindled within the depths of the crystal then. The purple and orange light within it blossomed once more.
But it had become smaller, less bright.
The Heliwr went to Aderyn. “How hurt are you?” he asked.
“I will live,” Aderyn grumbled
“That thing,” the Heliwr said, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Felt like it was draining me.”
“It is as I feared. The ashterbach,” she said, looking over her robes. “It absorbs magic driven by energy, by heat, by light. Any magic not of the shadows. It would have killed you. And me. To get at the phoenix.”
“Why has the egg dimmed?” Richard asked.
“The phoenix is a powerful creature, even within its protective egg. It knows what transpires around us; it likely knows the ashterbach was trying to kill it. It reacted in the only way it knows how. But its magic is not infinite. It expends energy, its lifeforce, and by expending it becomes lesser than it was before.”
Richard didn’t like the sound of that. “And if the ashterbach returns enough times and we can’t stop it . . .”
“The phoenix will die. Withered. Within its egg,” the Druid said. “Lost to the world forever.”
The mountain rose above all, the forest below paying homage to it.
Richard pulled Lyrian to a halt, giving his great mount a respite from their arduous flight through the Forest of Rhos. Truth be told, the Heliwr needed it too. The night, the next day, and the previous night had been exhausting. No sleep, no rest. The ashterbach had attacked four more times, coming at them at different times, in various ways, and in broken patterns. Just on the other side of the Saith yn Col ruins, a barely perceptible shift of the sunlight had alerted them that the ashterbach tried to steal the egg’s pouch. That night, the beast had attacked from the nighttime sky. The last two times had been direct assaults like the first one. Each time the Heliwr, Snedeker, and Aderyn Hier fought it. With every means that they possessed. Each time, the ashterbach almost reached the egg. And every time, the only magic that had any effect on the dark Unseelie creature was that of the phoenix.
The fire within the egg had now shrunk dramatically, its once robust purple-orange flame reduced to the size of a candle’s flame. Snedeker fretted over the egg constantly.
Richard feared the worst.
They had last fought the ashterbach that morning, the egg fending it off, before Richard and Aderyn gained the Forest of Rhos. Draped in the shadows of the ancient wood where the ashterbach could easily hide and pull strength from, the final leg of their journey to the distant white cliffs promised to be the most dangerous.
But the ashterbach had not attacked again. And as the afternoon waned to lengthening shadows of evening, uneasiness grew within Richard as Aderyn guided them to the heights of the white granite cliffs.
“Who do you suspect is here?” Richard asked. “You would not be bringing us if you did not know the answer to my question. And you are on edge, I can feel it. You did not share everything the other night.”
Aderyn gave him a withering look. “As I said, my mother once ruled here. It could be anyone from the former families, descendants of the Anfarwol Order.”
“Maybe they are gone,” Snedeker offered.
“If so, it would be the first good luck we’ve had,” Richard said. “I have no desire to fight a cult, let alone a cult and the ashterbach.”
“Let us hope for the best then,” Aderyn shared.
They made their way up the path, the giant cliffs above a warning to Richard. The Heliwr kept the Dark Thorn close, its magic at his command more readily. He knew the need would arise. The ashterbach could kill them in any number of ways now—through the forest or from the air or higher up where even the forest dropped away from the path that clung to the side of the mountain and snaked upward. Richard had once found out the hard way how dangerous high mountain footpaths could be when Unseelie creatures had attacked him just below the dragon stronghold of Tal Ebolyon. The ashterbach could try to send them tumbling to their deaths below. The egg would be easy prey then, especially as weak as it had become.
Swaying upon Lyrian as they gained elevation, Richard pushed his senses into the natural world, seeking the ashterbach. He felt no presence of the deadly wraith.
The Heliwr wondered why it did not attack.
He looked back at Aderyn. She rode behind him, keeping her eyes locked on the reaches above where the trees had begun to thin, giving way to stubborn rock. This part of the world she knew well. Richard hated to admit it, but he was pleased the Arch Druid requested her for this journey. Especially if the Anfarwol Order still existed somewhere in these environs, a cult world that only she could navigate.
“Where did you live here, once upon a time?” Richard asked her.
The Druid pointed. “On the other side of the mountain. This path leads us to the top where the phoenix may birth, but there is another similar path on the other side that leads down into the village.”
“Are you not curious to
see if your home still stands?”
“I would be lying if I said no,” Aderyn said, her steely confidence the only thing keeping her weariness at bay. “But we are not here for a social gathering, are we?”
“Not at all,” the Heliwr agreed.
The two went quiet. Snedeker continued to scout and return at various times. He had nothing to report; they encountered no one. Birds sang and insects buzzed, nothing amiss. The exposed granite above glowed in the sunlight, drawing them on as if a beacon, the rest of the world falling away as they climbed. The wildness of the Forest of Rhos disappeared, its living sentience left behind, but ancient fir trees that had long ago found purchase on the mountain still offered shade and places where the ashterbach could hide. Richard remained vigilant. One never could tell where an attack would come from until it was too late. Better safe than dead.
The path began to level eventually. The forest grew wild again to either side of the trail, trees growing larger, their trunks wide and boughs thick into their heights. The air had become cooler, a reprieve from the heat below. Richard led upon Lyrian, heading directly toward a heart of shattered stone that rose above even the ancient trees like a throne for a giant sitting on top of the mountain.
“The home of Annwn’s phoenix is ahead,” Aderyn shared.
Richard appraised the situation as they grew closer. It was level ground leading up to the stone, much better to fend off the ashterbach than the steep trail they had just taken. The trees offered cover from the air once more. But the bed of upheaved granite stood before them, scarred by ash and exposed to the sky.
“The place looks recently used,” he said. “You can tell by the soot.”
“Agreed,” Aderyn said, eyes scanning about.
“Snedeker, take a look around.”
The fairy grumped about his lot in life while flying off, circling the top of the mountain. It did not take him long to return. “I found nothing,” he said. “The only thing on the other side of this precipice is more white stone. Although there is artwork carved upon the rock here. Images in relief of the phoenix in various stages of life. And at its base the entire way around? Stacked wood as if ready for a bonfire.”
“No ashes? Anywhere?” Richard asked.
“None.”
“For the new phoenix to rise, we need the ashes of the old. The egg requires it, if history recounts fact,” Aderyn said, dismounting and walking toward the stone edifice. She pointed to the place most blackened by ages of soot. “McAllister, place your ward there. Maybe the residual ash can split the crystal and free the phoenix.”
Richard did just that, although he didn’t think it would work. He had to try though, despite the hope in the other’s voice. He took the egg from its leather bag—the sunlight of the day shimmering within the crystal and drowning out the weak flame within—and carried it toward a long smooth stone that almost looked like a bench. He glanced up at the frieze that had been carved into the mountain granite, able to make out images of a full-grown phoenix as it grew from egg to adult, its entire life cycle in one amazing and beautiful work of art.
He then placed the warm egg on the stone where soot seemed to be the most concentrated.
Nothing happened.
“This does not bode well,” Richard said, glancing around. “I wonder wha—”
His eyes fell on the woman then.
She stood in the shadows, watching them, made a part of the wild wood about them by the dark green hooded cloak she wore. When she realized that she had been noticed, she strode forward then even as other shapes materialized out of the forest’s gloom, a dozen men and women, all bearing weapons. And a lot of them.
The woman in front stopped about a dozen yards away and lowered her cowl. Sharp features. Long braided brunette hair. And striking blue eyes that held eons of insight. At once, Aderyn breathed surprised acknowledgment.
“Mother?” she whispered. “This cannot be.”
The woman approached the Druid, reaching out hands. Aderyn returned the gesture, gripping the other’s gently. She laughed, a happy sound. “It cannot be because I should be long dead? You as well. Yet here you are.”
“I am a Druid of Caer Dathal. We lead long lives.”
The other nodded, eyes glimmering pleasure. “Out of all of my children, you always did have a powerful spirit. Intuitive. Smart. I am not surprised.”
“But how is this possible?” Aderyn asked. “It’s been centuries.”
“You mean, why am I not buried?” the woman asked. “Let us just say that the power of this place is rooted in the permanence of fire.”
Richard peered more intently at the two, trying to glean more about this new woman and what kind of family relationship she had with her daughter. There was a family resemblance, no doubt, although Aderyn’s mother appeared far younger than her Druid daughter. He gave Snedeker a dark look. The fairy returned it. They had not expected this. But if there was one thing Richard had to constantly remind himself, magic had the ability to make the impossible possible. This was just one more instance. It was important to remain steady despite the surprise. The cult leader having magic at her disposal clearly opened up a box with even more questions than answers—would she be friend or foe in this endeavor that they had set out on? How would Richard handle it if the Anfarwol Order turned against his mission? And what magic did she possess?
Aderyn turned to him. “I am honored for you to meet Fianna Hier, Ard-Sagart of the Anfarwol Order. Mother, this is Richard McAllister, Heliwr of the Yn Saith, and his fairy companion, Snedeker of the Oakwell clan. Both friends to the Arch Druid of Caer Dathal the New and friends of my own as well.”
The Druid had mentioned Aengus Doughal. She had done it with intent. Aderyn was trying to impress his importance upon her mother. An introduction but a warning too. Power had a way of only recognizing other power. Richard did not know how Fianna Hier had become Ard-Sagart—the High Priestess of the Anfarwol Order—but her daughter had made sure the mother would take him seriously.
“The Oakwell fairy there has a most prized object in his possession,” Fianna Hier said, eyes narrowed upon the exposed egg. Her excitement was obvious. Whispers gathered at her back, the Anfarwol Order members taking note. “But we should not talk of it here. I sense shadows speaking. The ashterbach has been loosed once more.” She paused, frowning at her daughter. “You should have known better, Aderyn, bringing a phoenix egg here without first sending word. We have protections and protocols for this event. You know this.”
“I do, mother,” Aderyn said. “I had no way of knowing if you were alive or the Order still even here. We have been adept at keeping the egg safe thus far. The Unseelie hunter has attacked several times. The egg is still here.”
“All the more reason to go. We have much to discuss and prepare for.”
“Ard-Sagart, I am pleased to be here and at service,” Richard said, playing the role of politician that he always hated but which Merle forced upon him. “It is a dark visit though. I would rather finish this journey with a birth. Now.” He pointed at the egg. “We need ashes from the previous phoenix. You have knowledge on this, I believe.”
“That is what we must talk about,” Fianna Hier said, averting her eyes. “Better to do so at our home from a position of strength. We have might at our disposal, Heliwr. Best we are protected by it.”
Richard nodded, annoyed at being put off. He had no choice in the matter though, and he had to play by her rules until he could gauge more about the situation. Before he could acknowledge the request, a man from her group approached with measured steps. He was young, tall, and lean, handsome in the way that most bearded redhead men were in their twenties.
“Ard-Sagart, if I may,” he said, unwilling to look her in the eye, deference in his every movement. “Do you believe that the Heliwr and the Druid could help with Laura?”
“My consort,” Fianna Hier said in apology rather than introduction. She looked at Richard, measuring him. He knew distrust when he saw it. It
unsettled him further. “One of my daughters is quite ill. A wasting sickness. I have done all that is within my own meager power. Her loss would be of a great pain to the Anfarwol Order.”
“I am not a healer,” Richard said. “But I know a few things. And Aderyn has likely learned a great deal during her time at Caer Dathal.”
“Very well. I welcome your aid. You shall be our guests tonight,” she said, glancing back at her consort and those behind him. “We will celebrate in this clearing tomorrow night as the moon rises. The phoenix has returned!”
Excited murmuring filled those behind her. Fianna Hier nodded to Richard, replaced her cowl, and headed back the direction they had come, into the forest and beyond. The Heliwr gathered the egg while Aderyn gained their mounts.
“Are you sure about this?” Snedeker said, watching the phoenix egg go back into its bag. “I don’t trust her. And we should be trying to birth the phoenix tonight.”
“What other recourse do we have?” the Heliwr said.
“Troll-fack, Rick. The phoenix doesn’t trust her!”
“Oh?” Richard said. “It told you that, did he?”
“She,” the fairy corrected. “And yes.”
Richard slung the pack over his shoulder and walked after Aderyn. “Then I suggest you keep an eye out,” he said. “And keep listening to her.”
Snedeker flew ahead and upward as he had done so many times during their tenure as Heliwr and guide. Even though he adored the egg, he would keep watch from the trees as his duty required, the best way the Oakwell fairy could protect the unborn phoenix and the Heliwr as well. Aderyn led the on her steed with Richard mounted upon Lyrian, the congregation of Fianna Hier long since vanished back the way they had come.
Unfettered III Page 73