“Hold.” A-Sharoon spoke, her voice rising as she stepped in front of them, her long, black hair streaming behind her, her robes fanning out so that she seemed to be rising off the earthen floor. Nickolous stepped back, pulling the big wolf with him. Within him the still small voice whispered. “Not yet… “
“You dare to interfere!” The red eyes flashed, their pupils narrowed until they were mere slits. “You! Have you forgotten who and what you are?” Laughter, dark and grating burst forth from bloodless lips.
A-Sharoon stepped closer, black eyes blazing. “No. I have not forgotten who I Am, for I have always Been. Into the darkness was I brought forth. I and others like me. We are everywhere. It is you who do not belong. How dare I?” Long white fingers relaxed their grip on the stone that struggled to be free.
Moving closer, A-Sharoon rose to her full height. “How dare I?” Even as she spoke, the stone’s full power was released amidst the faintly whispered words.
“How dare you!”
Icy cold tendrils wrapped themselves around the companions; seeking… Nickolous remained where he was, the throbbing of the staff he held reaching out to meet the pulsing power of the stone.
27
Power, ancient and forbidding to those found unworthy; drawing the very breath from the hidden watchers as the Flame burst forth from its prison, consuming those who sought to reach it through the earth dwellers. So swiftly that those who had stood guard barely felt its passage amongst them the Flame stretched out—lengthening—blending into the cold gray rock that concealed its passing.
Behind it, the tiny dwellers of rock and earth gratefully accepted the long-forgotten gift of warmth left within its wake.
§ § § § § §
Nickolous swayed beneath the rush of power that flowed through the staff to him. In front of him, A-Sharoon, arms raised above her head, commanded the force of the stone as the Fallen raged at them all. Nearly unrecognizable, he had grown. Changing as the changelings had; towering over them, his face, or what once had been his face, a mass of darkness as the evil, uncontained, burst forth. At the same time, the staff flew from Nickolous’s grasp, while the roar of the wind as it merged with the Flame carried it to the stone that fell from A-Sharoon’s nerveless fingers.
As A-Sharoon, Daughter to the Night, turned to shield herself, Nickolous braced himself to accept the power of The Three.
Strength lent by the grandfathers from before the dark time; the stone opened itself to the purity of the fire. Memories, whispered upon the endless winds that blew, fanned the hot breath of the Flame while the living stone, commanded by the woman to do what it must chose the way of Fire and Wind. From somewhere deep within the earth an answering cry echoed as the dwellers of rock and earth surged upward, their thoughts linked to the watchers above.
The warriors of Skye.
Nickolous blinked against the brilliant light as the cavern dissolved in an explosion of shattering rock that shifted outward and away, the voices of the elders guiding him as the silver glowed incandescent against his skin. Words, unbidden, spoken against the storm’s wrath as he drew the Old One and Orith to him while Gabriel and Chera fought to keep their balance.
Beneath them the earth heaved upward, spewing debris as a large crack opened—slowly widening as the rush of heat overwhelmed those closest to it.
A-Sharoon straightened slowly, her ability to call the darkness failing her as she looked upward into the face of death. Knowledge, buried deep within memories from the before time were sought, and found as the Fallen towered over her. Even as the power of The Three combined against him, he sought to destroy the Daughter of Darkness for her betrayal.
Nickolous drew in his breath, letting it out slowly, calming himself as he aligned himself with the others. Lord Moshat flanked him on one side, while the watcher from the hidden forest flanked him on the other. The Flame grew, pushed by the wind that blew endlessly, the stone commanding that of its kind to no longer shelter a fallen warrior of Skye. Protected by powers that were beyond comprehending, the companions could only watch as A-Sharoon and the Fallen faced each other.
“Know this Fallen One and remember well these words,” A-Sha-roon hissed the words as the wind and Flame embraced her, the words trailing off to a whisper as she felt their soft caress against her skin. Her eyes widened as she spoke the words that were not her own but that of the Flame as it used her voice to speak—
A gift of understanding between it and the woman it had briefly touched while encased within its prison.
“Son, born of light, the choice was always yours and yours alone to make. From the beginning I knew you; touched you even though you never knew it, even as I touched all things living deep within that well where all thought exists. In the before time; even from the beginning, I was; as were all things born of darkness and light.”
A-Sharoon trembled as the force of the Flame gripped her, its bright orange tendrils cooled by the wind that steadied it. Black eyes widened as the power of the stone swept back to its mistress amidst the swirling light, while behind her, Nickolous steadied the flow of power that raced through his body as the silver armband tightened against his skin.
Caught within the circle of power, the words spoken in the tongue of the Ancients silenced Lord Nhon’s retort as the darkness swirled around him, trying to smother the golden glow that surrounded the Daughter to the Night.
“Now.” Nickolous released the power gifted from the circle elders. The strength of the watchers, the earth dwellers, the little ones, rising upward to join the elemental powers that battled the darkness that struggled against the Flame.
Both borne into the beginning of understanding. This, the moment of truth.
Lord Nhon, now beyond any resemblance of a warrior of Skye, opened his mouth to speak but could not. Tendrils of burning flame engulfed him as the wind sighed about him, fanning the heat that seemed to affect him alone as A-Sharoon stumbled backward. Caught off balance by the Flame’s sudden release, the stone clutched tightly within her hand, red droplets spattering the ground as she drew back within herself. Back to her center—
To touch and be touched by that which had been from the beginning—then to come back to what she was; left her drained. She glanced at the companions; at the half son of Skye. Feeling the power surging back to herself, knowing that she would return to whom she was, yet at the same time wondering if the memories left by the Flame would ever recede into the void she felt within herself.
Gabriel snarled a warning to his mate as the fire roared about them, the changelings shrieking their protest as they turned to ash. Jerome shielded the Old One and Orith as the wall of Flame rose up before them. Horrifying and beautiful at the same time, its translucent tendrils wreaking devastation, yet at the same time giving new life as the earth beneath their feet opened to receive the fallen one of Skye.
§ § § § § §
Owen blinked against the light that assailed him as the dust rose upward to be steadied by the cooling winds. Carried to the four corners; sifted through. To be dispersed by the winds so that nothing of the darkness that had been here would remain to gather ever again. They were no longer surrounded by rock and earthen floor. Warmth flooded the clearing they now found themselves in; the grass beneath their feet soft and comforting as they breathed deeply of the fresh air.
“A-Sharoon?”
“Gone back to her home in the dark forest,” Nickolous answered the great wolf that stood beside him.
“And the Fallen?” Gabriel turned to look up at the young man who but a few short turnings ago had been but a mere youth. Seeking answers to questions that most would have pondered but never dared ask.
“Into the darkness another has fallen. Having failed to destroy those who seek the light, he will wander endlessly, seeking revenge.” Nickolous murmured the words softly as he bent to pick up something that lie half
buried in the grass.
It was the amulet that had slipped from Lord Nhon’s grasp as he had been consumed by the very darkness that he had served. Wordlessly, he handed it to Lord Moshat, the elder accepting what was once his. The power within the stone had settled, back to its center. It was where it belonged. Lord Moshat glanced up; his gaze meeting that of the elder from the hidden place. Thoughts passed between them in the ancient way of the warriors; the elder from the hidden place nodded his head in assent.
Nickolous accepted the amulet that the winged warrior pressed into his hand as the others watched—their silence their approval of the warrior who had taken his place amongst them.
“Will Lord Nhon find a way to come back?” Timothy asked, helping the Old One as she sat down carefully, her body only now reacting to the stress it had been under.
“The gatekeepers will keep watch.” Nickolous held Lord Moshat’s gaze as the knowledge of the Ancients, unspoken, once again passed between them. The watcher from the hidden place clasped Nickolous’s forearm in a tight grip of friendship, the call of the hidden valley pulling at him. He had been gone too long, and he still had much to do.
A series of high-pitched whistles sounded. Jerome, visibly relieved, replied to his warriors as the rest of the companions gathered about Nickolous, hardly daring to believe it was over. Orith moved slowly, aching in every part of his body, only now missing the staff on which he had leaned so heavily. The Old One patted him gently as he lowered himself beside her, their thoughts as one. The hidden knowledge that had been revealed deep within them—their destiny was now that of teaching others, so that those who chose to would grow; the cycle of growing within oneself a continuing thing.
Around them new life stirred, even as the earth mourned those who had fallen beneath the darkness. Gone was the Flame, carried by the wind back to its sacred place, guarded by the eldest of the forest warriors; the entrance hidden to all but the ones who could see the unseen.
Chera and Gabriel, now released from their pledge to guard Nicko-lous, were free to return to their pack; to the moonlit nights of the chase. The primordial stirrings were strong within them both as that which had commanded them at the beginning to protect; now released them from that oath.
“Warrior of Skye; Son of two worlds—it is time to make a choice.”
Nickolous looked down at the speaker, for it was the Old One who had spoken. Black eyes looked up at him as they had so many times before, but this time there was sadness deep within their depths as she waited for his answer. He looked around at those who had journeyed with him and knew he would not, could not, return to that other place where the beginning had been forgotten—displaced by scientific explanations for events unexplained.
He drew in his breath then let it out slowly, the answer given. The Old One stroked his face gently, the touch gentle as she smiled, relieved.
“Was there ever any doubt?” Nickolous spoke within her mind, blocking off the other companions’ ability to hear his conversation. As long as his journey between the two worlds had been, the Old One, with her wisdom, had always been with him. He knew that now. Knew that he had been borne to this world; had struggled in the other to understand things that he could not speak of. Had lain awake nights listening to the whisperings of the elders as they reached out to him across an endless void filled with darkened thoughts that intercepted and distorted their true meaning. He let out his breathy slowly. And yet.he was here.
He turned to Lord Moshat, the elder’s gaze on his as he nodded his assent.
§ § § § § §
Owen soared above the trees, wing tips brushing against the topmost branches as he followed the companions’ slow journey out of the deep valley; for that is what remained of the dark caverns after the battle. Hidden were the sacred places; once again new life flourished in their stead, the little ones of the earth the caretakers once again. Beneath him walked the new hope—a half son of Skye. Warrior now, no doubt he would seek out his sister. Gabriel and Chera choosing to walk by his side for a time while Liege, with the other wolves sank back into the depths of the forest, unseen; their wraith-like forms a part of the shadows that are always at the side of one’s vision; to be determined as friend or foe, depending upon the heart within.
The Old One moved a little more slowly, more cautiously, while Orith walked close by.
Watching them, Owen doubted if they would ever separate now. Two companions bound by knowledge from a deeper time. It was their time now. Timothy hurried ahead, no doubt eager to get back to Sarah.
The great Owl sighed deeply. He, too, wished to get back to what he had once known. Dipping low, he soared over Jerome, the warrior acknowledging him as he followed behind the others, while Lord Moshat and the elder from the hidden place walked with Nickolous, their voices low, indistinct even for his hearing.
Beyond the towering mountains was home. Owen felt a great restlessness within as the great Eagle soared above him. The need to return to the hunt of the night riding strong within him as he acknowledged the Eagle’s right to the light.
§ § § § § §
The woman ran her hands over the runes, listening to the stone beneath as the cavern glowed with an unnatural light. Whispers, carried upon the wind that snaked its way through the endless tunnels; heat, intense then cool caressed her skin as the sighing passed over head. Tilting her head to one side, listening with her heart, she spoke the words written within the stone.
Protected by the grandmothers from the beginning, she did not look up when the Flame passed overhead. Its passage marked by a warm breeze as the wind guided it to the sacred place. The woman brushed her hair back from her face as the chanting began, the sweet smell assaulting her senses as the fragrant scent of burning grass filled the air.
She straightened up. It was time to find her son. A warrior of Skye.
Beneath her, deep within the caverns of the living rock that sheltered them, the circle elders increased their chanting; their voices rising. Carried by the wind through crevice and stone, echoing through the passageways, resonating until the earth dwellers raised their voice carrying the message to those who walked above.
The Flame was home.
Looking back, Nickolous bid a silent farewell to the watcher. The valley would remain hidden; guarded by those who dwelt within. The Eagle’s cry rang in the early morning air, and Nickolous responded; amazed once again at the feeling of belonging that swept over him. Around him his friends gathered. They would all share the return path.
Where they would go when that journey was completed would have to wait until they got there—to that place—
Grasping his staff to him, he felt the warmth of the wood as it responded to his emotions. It, too, was in a new beginning, and as the youth turned warrior paused at the top of the rise the great Eagle dipped low, its golden eyes mirroring the new days dawning.
Epilogue
Leah crouched in the shadows. Her senses tingling, her breathing ragged. The storm had came out of nowhere, the thunder and lightning hitting so fast that she hadn’t had time to seek shelter. She blinked as the rain swirled about her, blinding her as the cold crept upward, while her body, numbed by the intense cold, reacted instinctively to the need to survive as she crept forward; out from behind the copse of red pine trees into the open. Shocked at what she saw, she could only stand there; her eyes seeing what her heart denied—chaos all about her. Slowly she moved forward. Cautiously, trying to make no sound, she skirted the edge of the clearing, the knowledge layered deep within that her world, as she knew it, had changed yet again.
Gone were the caverns with their long, winding tunnels and stale, musty air. Gone were the small ones, those of the earth diggers; the clans who lived beneath, they who listened in the darkened places so that they could warn the clans who walked above.
All gone.
Leah covered her face with her
hands and sank to her knees upon the sodden earth, while the tears mingled with the cold rain.
§ § § § § §
Not bothering to spare a backward glance for the figure huddled in the driving rain, the Other moved forward, his long strides taking him away. Away from the destruction his coming had brought. Away from the young woman who had not been there but mere moments before, but somehow had followed him when the cavern had collapsed inward upon itself from that other place where the Clans of the earth and sky warred with those like and unlike himself. Looking up into the grey sky where even darker clouds swirled—shadows within that turned endlessly upon themselves, the man breathed a sigh of relief. Good. His world had not changed in the short interval he had been gone. Sparing a backward glance toward the female who still huddled on the ground a short distance away, he dismissed her presence with the knowledge that his sentries would do what was necessary.
§ § § § § §
Leah tensed as the sensations washed over her. “Danger,” the voice whispered as she knelt in the mud, the chill creeping upward not from the dampness but from something else. She remained where she was, her body language not betraying what she saw within her mind, as dark eyes swept the wooded area in front of her for a place to hide from the unseen ones who watched. She knew she was unprotected, here, in this place. She also knew that she wasn’t in that other place; the place where winged warriors guarded from distant realms—
Drawing in a deep breath, she let it out slowly, centering herself; turning inward to that other place she and her brother, Nickolous, sometimes shared when one needed the other. Thoughts guarded, reached out…seeking.
Leah pulled back, her mind reeling at what she sensed rather than saw; darkness so total, so complete. she drew in her breath sharply as the realization hit her that the connection to her brother—to that other place—was gone. She glanced around, the knowing within that she was in danger and defenseless nearly overwhelming. Carefully she started to rise, to stand. Her attention drawn to the heavily forested area in front of her, she didn’t see the shadowy form watching her from beneath the overhanging branches of the hemlock tree, nor did she notice the low lying clouds that were centered slightly above her, their shape ever changing as the air about her became electrified; grey smoke like tendrils curling down to embrace her tightly within their grasp.
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