Silas jerked awake. Sweat was pouring down his face and back. He looked in every direction, and all was as it had been when he had drifted off. He looked to his left where he could hear Coffman and Alric snoring away. Lorcan whimpered to himself, but someone was missing. Inga! Silas stood quickly and searched around the camp, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. She was not there. Since the camp was on the edge of the woods, the only place he could imagine she went was into the forest. Could she have been taken? Silas shook his head. No, not without us hearing it. Inga would have made enough noise to wake the others. She had to have gone on her own.
Silas looked into the woods, daring himself to move forward. It could be a dangerous move. He knew nothing of this part of the world, but his intuition told him that traveling into the dark forest was not the wisest of choices. He looked back at the others, sleeping soundly and whimpering softly, then back into the woods. He took a deep breath and moved forward, walking as lightly as possible.
He walked past trees and stones, remembering to look back every few seconds to make sure he had not lost sight of the camp. He knew that if he did lose track, he would be lost, and this was not a place to get lost. He kept moving forward, using the light of the moon to guide his path. After a few long, dark minutes he could hear murmuring to his right. When he looked in that direction, he saw her. Inga was kneeling next to a tree posed as if she were praying. When he came closer he could hear her, but could not discern the ramblings she made. He could tell by the stiffening of her body that she knew he was near. She could sense his presence. He was soon within two feet of her and her muttering ceased. There was a rock to the side of her and Silas took a seat. Nothing was said during these moments. Silas had already found himself invading her space and nothing could change that, but he was going to let her be the first to speak.
After a few awkward moments, her eyes lifted and fell upon his face. Then, a slight grin formed at the corner of her mouth causing relief to flood over Silas. He was not sure how she would take his intrusion, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” she said calmly.
“Not at all,” Silas answered. “I woke and noticed you were gone. This isn’t exactly the best place to be wandering off by yourself, you know.”
“I do know,” she said. “I felt him again.”
Silas searched his mind for what she could be talking about until he remembered their conversation in Timugo.
“Silandrin,” he said.
Inga’s silence confirmed the answer.
“Trails of my former teacher. The presence of his travels is strong here. It’s as if he were here only days ago, but that couldn’t be.”
“Why not?” Silas asked.
“Because he said he was going to come back for me. He told me he was going to finish my training as a Sorceress. The only reason he would not keep his word is his death. I have accepted that he was dead, but the feelings that have erupted tonight have confused me again.”
Silas sat in thought for a moment, not sure what to tell her. “What were you saying to yourself earlier?”
Inga gave him a puzzled look.
“When I came over here, you were muttering something with your eyes closed,” he explained.
“I was trying to conjure the image of the presence I felt. I was trying to see if he actually had passed through here before.”
“Anything?”
Inga shook her head. Silas reached out and put a hand on Inga’s shoulder to comfort her. As he touched her, she stiffened slightly, a reaction of rejection that Silas was not expecting. He pulled his hand back quickly, thankful that it was dark enough for the red in his face to remain hidden.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be. It’s just that your touch is a powerful one.”
Silas looked at her curiously.
“It’s the touch of the Meshulan. It’s one that carries great significance.”
“I’m just me,” he said.
Inga sighed. “Alric and the others do not appreciate who you are the way I do, Silas Ainsley. They’ve heard of the Meshulan, but they know nothing of what you are to become. In their eyes it makes little difference who you are. I think this is the case with many people these days. Magic has begun to leave Marenon and along with the magic, the prophecies and histories of ancient days have diminished.”
“I don’t blame the others,” Silas said. “I’m not sure if I even believe in the Meshulan.”
Inga smiled. “It doesn’t matter if you believe it, Silas. You are what you are, no matter what you want to believe and no matter what I or anyone else believes.”
“But I don’t want to be the Meshulan,” he said.
“Again, a comment that doesn’t change anything.”
Silas’ heart lurched when Inga reached out and grabbed his hand. “Never be afraid to touch me, Silas. I will gladly take the hand of the Meshulan. The Deliverer.”
It took everything in Silas to keep his thoughts focused on what she was saying. All he could think about was the fact that her soft hands were holding his, and the feeling in his stomach was urging him to lean forward and kiss her beautiful face. He pulled his hands away and stood, looking at no spot in particular.
“I am a Sorceress in training,” Inga said. “Some of my training involved learning about the prophecies of old. I know that you are to be a deliverer to a people unknown. I personally think that you will bring deliverance to the Humans.”
“But what does that mean?” Silas said. “What do the Humans need to be delivered from?”
“Most would claim deliverance from the Stühocs. They would say that the Stühoc’s presence in Marenon is oppressive to all. But then the Stühocs claim that you will make them equal to all other creatures in Marenon, to bring a balance. I believe you are here to make Humans a true part of this world.”
Silas still wasn’t able to buy it. He knew so little and all this was being shoved in his face. All he wanted was to rescue Kaden.
“Your grandfather will be angry when he finds out that you’ve gone to Mudavé. It’s extremely dangerous.”
“But I’m the Meshulan, right?” Silas asked in sarcasm.
“As I’m sure you know, the prophecy isn’t clear on what you will become. With reservation, I’ll help escort you to the place that could become your new haven.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that the Stühoc’s lure can be enticing. If your friend is alive then they are doing everything they can to turn him. Once the Stühocs have a hold on you, their disgusting looks and evil ways do not seem so wicked anymore. After a while, you come to like their ways. They do not seem so repulsive. If you are captured, you must know that they will do everything in their power to convert you. I fear that after a long time, not even the Meshulan could resist their pull.”
“How do they do it?”
“It’s an evil, dark magic. It is something that has not been lost from the Stühocs over the centuries.”
“How is it you know so much?”
“Like I said, as a Sorceress, it’s my training to know about all forms of magic, even the dark ones.”
Silas sat back down to the rock, now engaged deeply. “So, how long can Kaden resist the Stühocs?”
“I don’t know Kaden,” she said, “but if he was close to your grandfather and instrumental in the Dunarian cause for all these years, then I imagine he is strong-willed.” She hesitated with her next words, almost as if to make sure she needed to say them.
“I would say you are doing the right thing by trying to help him,” she said. “But I don’t think you should do it alone.”
Silas wanted to reach his hand out and hold hers again. The feeling was so comforting, but he thought better of it.
“You will come with me into Mudavé?”
“I do not think that Silandrin would have it a different way. I think he would call me a fool if I didn’t go.”
“What about the others?”
“Well, I’m sure they will not be eager to go, but if they see that I’m going then perhaps they will reconsider. Except maybe Lorcan.”
“Why is he so scared of the Stühocs?” Silas asked. “I’ve seen him fight. He was fearless before.”
Inga smiled, but not out of joy. It was a sad smile, as though she were trying to remember the details of a very sad tale.
“Lorcan’s story is a terrible one,” she said. “The Stühocs killed his family in the war seventeen years ago. He was just a young Erellen boy. They captured him and tortured him. He never told me details of his capture, only that I know his deepest fear is to be captured again. They must have done terrible things to him. It was probably much harder for a child to go through such an experience.”
Silas stared at the ground, trying to imagine what it must have been like. He couldn’t. This new insight to Lorcan’s life gave Silas a different view of the Erellen. There must have been so much pain.
He was happy to have Inga’s support, however. He had been so worried about trying to get into Mudavé alone and now to have just one companion made him feel as if nothing could stop them. He sat for a moment, looking into Inga’s eyes. He felt at peace with her by his side. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew that he liked it. He knew that he wanted it to stay. He shifted his feet, not sure of what to say or do next. He would have been happy just to sit in silence with Inga the whole night, but a question came to his mind.
“What about Silandrin?”
Inga shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel that he is alive, but I fear that he is gone forever. There is no way for me to know. Perhaps when we get Kaden out of Mudavé I’ll begin my travels in search for him again.”
“I hope we can find him,” Silas said.
“We?”
Silas didn’t even realize he had said we but he nodded anyway.
“Yeah. I’ll help you look for him when this is all over.”
Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Wow,” she said. “Add that to the list of things a person never expects to hear from the Meshulan of Marenon.”
“You’d never think so until you met him.”
She smiled and he returned it with his own.
It was a good night in Marenon, perhaps the last good night Silas would have for a long time.
Chapter Twenty-Six
By dawn, everyone was awake and packing up the campsite in silence. Alric told Silas that he would show him a path in the foothills of the Reemlock Mountains that led to Mudavé. It was one, he said, that seemed the least likely to be watched from afar.
Alric instructed that they all fly low as to avoid being spotted from possible Stühoc scouts. The mountains towered above them. They were not pretty mountains like the ones Silas and his grandfather had traveled through in Colorado. Their immense, looming blackness seemed to look menacingly down on them, warning them that traveling further would only result in a painful end. As foreboding as the mountains seemed, Silas had found a new confidence with Inga flying near him. He was sure that she would be able to convince the others to join them, but even if they did not, he felt as though he could take on all of Mudavé because of her. The mountains were still dangerous, he knew, but most of his fear was gone.
The sky was as gray and depressing as the ground over which it hovered. It was as if the flight into the mountains had suddenly turned from a vibrant green of a lush and thriving environment to a land of dead waste and despair. Silas now realized why there seemed to be no motivation for any people group of Marenon to swiftly run into Mudavé and conquer the Stühocs to claim the land as their own. There was no reason for this land to be desired. There was nothing in this miserable wasteland. A new fear grew that they might not even have enough water to make it. Alric assured them, however, that Inga would be able to change any liquid substance into water if the skill was needed. She neither disputed nor confirmed this claim. The only spots of water they encountered seemed to boil with some crude oily substance that couldn’t possibly be useful to a Human. Perhaps it was safe for the Stühocs and perhaps that is why they were able to find solace in such a desolate environment. What was poisonous to Humans was probably the life source of the Stühocs. It made sense to Silas somehow. Either way, he hoped they wouldn’t have to rely on Inga to do her magic. She needed her strength for the journey ahead.
They flew low for a long while until midday. Silas was surprised that Alric had stuck with him this far. The path had been spotted hours before, and when Silas inquired, Alric simply said that there didn’t seem to be any Stühocs around and that it looked safe to fly as long as they stayed a few miles outside of Mudavé, much to Lorcan’s protest.
Silas felt relieved by the presence of his companions, hoping that their nearness to Mudavé would help convince them to aid him in rescuing Kaden.
They flew for another hour until Lorcan started asking when they would turn back. He was quite emphatic about stopping, but Alric ignored him. Silas watched the cowering Erellen for a moment as he clutched to Inga, white-faced and fearful. Part of him felt sorry for what the Erellen had gone through, but another part of him wanted to slap Lorcan and tell him to keep it together. He wondered what might have happened when the Stühocs captured him.
When Silas finally looked away, he glanced down and saw a figure moving below them. He slumped down for a better look when he noticed a tiny, thin object flying toward him at great speed. Before he could react, Skarret reared back in pain, nearly throwing Silas off its back. The earsplitting cry from the sarian pierced the sky for miles around. Silas’ stomach lurched as Skarret began a free-fall. He held tight to the sarian’s feathered back as they rushed toward the ground at a deadly speed.
He could hear the others scream out his name, but to no avail. Skarret attempted to flap his wings once or twice before hitting the ground, giving just enough of a lift to soften the landing. As the sarian smashed into the dirt, Silas went sailing over the animal’s head and onto the ground with a resounding thud. It took several seconds for the others to fly down to the crash site, all of them panicked and unsure about what had just happened.
Silas could barely lift his head. Dizziness had taken over and he felt as though he had broken his ribs. It didn’t take long for the others to realize that they were under fire by two Stühoc scouts on the ridge above and to the east. All of them took cover behind a large boulder leaving Silas and Skarret out in the open, hoping the Stühocs would think that the two were dead and would not waste arrows on them.
“Silas, can you hear me?” Alric yelled from behind the boulder.
Silas wasn’t sure if he should cry out or give a thumb’s up because he didn’t want the scouts to see him moving. He tried giving an answer, but nothing could come out of his dry throat. He could barely get enough air to breathe much less make significant noise.
He realized that if he didn’t get on his back soon then he wouldn’t get any air. He was suffocating. He raised his head slowly to see the two Stühoc scouts each fitting another arrow into their bows and taking aim at Alric and Coffman who had quickly left the cover of the rock in order to distract the Stühocs from Silas. They screamed and waved their arms wildly. With all his strength, Silas pushed up on his right arm and rolled onto his back. The towering mountains above him danced in a circular motion causing his stomach to churn, and he thought he might vomit. He blinked his eyes in confusion when he saw two sarians soaring overhead, spinning and maneuvering in such a way as to dodge any oncoming arrows. He followed the sight, unable to see the riders upon them. The sarians swooped low and grabbed both scouts with their sharp talons lifting them from the ground. Silas worked his way to his knees watching as his rescuers took off at full speed higher and higher into the air and then dropped the Stühoc scouts from a tremendous height with no chance for survival. Their gray blood splattered in all directions as they smacked the ground. The sarians that had rescued Silas fluttered down serenely until they were only feet in front of him. Inga was the first to rush from behi
nd the rock to Silas’ aid. He assured Inga that he was okay, but when he saw who had just rescued him, he did not feel okay. His is stomach dropped at the site of Garland Ainsley and Julian Hobbes.
Both of them dashed to Silas’ side.
“Maybe a cracked rib or two,” Silas said. “We need to check Skarret.” At his order they moved to the sarian. Skarret lay on the ground as the other three sarians surrounded him. A long, black arrow protruded from the animal’s chest.
Garland was on his knees caressing the helpless beast.
“Is he going to make it?” Julian asked.
Garland sighed, not turning from Skarret. “I don’t know. The arrow missed the heart, but we are deep into Stühoc territory. It isn’t likely that we’ll be able to get him out.”
Silas felt nauseous at the thought of the critically injured sarian, wishing he knew of something to do to help the poor creature.
“Grandpa, I’m sorry.”
The group was silent as Garland worked to pull out the arrow. Inga sat next to Silas, helping him to his feet. “You are all foolish,” he said tugging gently. The animal cried out in pain with each pull. Finally the arrow came free and Garland held a cloth against the bleeding wound.
“I told you that there would not be a rescue attempt to help Kaden,” he continued. “But you wouldn’t listen to me. You had to do things your way didn’t you?”
“I’m doing what I have to do!” Silas said.
Garland had begun to instruct Lorcan to hold the cloth on the Skarret’s wound. He immediately thought better of it, noticing the Erellen’s shaking, and asked Coffman instead. Then he stood glaring at Silas.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “What is it within you that drives you to Mudavé? You don’t even know Kaden.”
“I know that he sacrificed himself to help me.”
“A sacrifice that will be in vain once you step inside Mudavé. You do not realize what you’re doing, Silas.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“Kaden is a prisoner because he wanted to be a prisoner!”
The Marenon Chronicles Collection Page 25