The Traitor and the Chalice

by Jane Fletcher

  An hour before midday, Tevi reached the point where the outflowing river emerged from the marsh. For the first half-mile, it was just dozens of trickling paths through the reeds, but as the streams coalesced, they grew in power. After another mile, she had left the basin around the lake behind. The river rushed tumbling down a narrow valley cut into the mountains. Sheer cliff faces overhung the river, and both banks were lined with eroded platforms of rock. Sheets of green water swept over boulders on the riverbed.

  Tevi made better progress than she had in the forest or the marsh, yet treacherous wet moss slicked the smooth rocks. With Jemeryl in her arms, travel was a fight for balance. Even with her potion-enhanced strength, Tevi was forced to stop for frequent rests.

  At one such break, in late afternoon, Tevi saw signs of a path on the opposite bank. Half a mile downstream, a well-marked ford crossed the river. For a short way, the track kept low on the bank. Then it climbed the hillside and was lost from sight amidst the trees. The path was clearly much used. The few blades of grass on it were trampled flat, and imprinted in the mud were the marks of dwarf boots.

  Tevi had no wish to encounter the dwarves again, but the path would be safer and quicker than the riverbank. There was also the likelihood that it would join the one leading to the dwarf mines. Once she reached somewhere she recognised, it would be straightforward to retrace the route to the Old West Road. On the other hand, although the river was still flowing north, there was no saying it would not loop back or that its banks might become impassable. A few nervous jitters unsettled her stomach, but Tevi turned her back on the river and took to the dwarf road.

  *

  For the rest of the afternoon, Tevi followed the path out of the wooded valley and across the rugged uplands. Stubby trees were interspersed with gorse that rattled in the cold wind. As evening approached, the sinking sun finally broke from under the clouds, brightening the scene although adding nothing by way of heat. The oblique rays cast a stretched yellow light over the scene.

  Dusk was falling as the path rolled over one more ridge. The terrain ahead dropped into a shallow valley that snaked away westward. The dwarven route bent east, climbing and disappearing over another hilltop. Bracken covered the upper valley slopes. A band of stunted trees filled the bottom. Directly opposite where Tevi stood, the ruins of a village clung to the hillside. Crumbling masonry rose above the straggly vegetation—the remains of at least thirty buildings with broken doors and gapping windows.

  The wind stiffened at Tevi’s back, stinging the exposed skin of her neck. She glanced over her shoulder. Clouds were piling up from the south, thick black thunderclouds that looked too heavy to hang in the sky. Tevi could smell the charged air carried on the gusting wind. A distant roll of thunder echoed over the mountains.

  Memories of Graka urged Tevi to flee the ruins, but the coming storm made finding shelter a necessity. Jemeryl would not survive the night in the open. The ruined village was the best shelter they were likely to find. Tevi’s heart pounded, but she left the path and scrambled down the hillside. The dangers of the ruins were hypothetical; the dangers of the coming storm were not. As she crossed the small stream at the bottom of the valley, the wind rose in earnest, snapping at her clothes. Rain began to fall, pierced with hail.

  The nearest building was a dozen yards above the stream. The roots of a young birch ploughed through its walls. Other trees grew wild, but the ruins had not been deserted for long, forty years at most. The remains of wooden doors hung from rusty hinges. Tiles still covered many buildings. Tevi began to climb the hillside, searching anxiously among the ruins for signs of life. Or other activity.

  The first two structures she passed were completely derelict and offered no shelter. The next was more substantial, a long, low building with a wide entrance at one end. Tevi peered in. A central hallway ran the length, lined with empty doorways on either side. It had possibly been a dormitory or a store. Now the far end was open to the sky, but the remaining two-thirds kept their roof. Tevi halted by the first inner doorway. The room was intact except for a few missing tiles in one corner. The hole let rain trickle down the wall and soak into the ground, but apart from this, the floor was dry. Blown leaves and rubble littered the ground. A fox appeared to have made a meal of a rabbit in one corner, but there was no other trace of recent occupation.

  Tevi lay Jemeryl down and went in search of timber. The wind was growing in strength with every minute. Rain whipped across the hillside in savage belts. The thunderclouds reduced the evening to darkness. Getting lost would be easy if she went far, but the remains of a door hung aslant on rusty hinges at the entrance. The old timbers were half-rotten and easily splintered by a few well-aimed kicks.

  Soon, Tevi had a fire blazing within a circle of bricks. Old nails protruded from the lintel above the doorway to the room. Tevi impaled a blanket on them so that it hung down, keeping in both heat and light. It was unlikely that anyone would be out on such a night, but she had no wish to advertise their presence.

  Smoke from the fire coiled under the ceiling before slipping out through the hole in the corner. The blanket over the door snapped as wind gusted down the hallway. Overhead, the tiles creaked, and the pounding of rain rose and fell.

  Jemeryl lay motionless beside the fire, wrapped in a second thick blanket. At no time during the day had she showed signs of waking. Now her breathing was growing weaker, and her pulse was less stable. A bluish tinge mottled her cheeks and temples.

  While the storm roared over the mountains, Tevi sat watching her lover. Jemeryl was fading before her eyes. Dying. Tevi fought back tears. The fire taunted her with its cheery light, mocking the memories of hearth and home. In a fierce mood, Tevi snapped wood and fed it to the flames. She knew she should eat and sleep but could not bring herself to care enough to do either.

  She could think of nothing to do—at least nothing helpful. But if Jemeryl died, she would return to the mines and see what havoc she could wreak. A suicide attack. Jemeryl had said the dwarves valued revenge. Tevi was sure they would understand.

  Chapter Seventeen—The Top of the Pass

  Storm-blown debris clattered down the corridor. Wrapped in her plans for revenge, Tevi barely noticed the noise. No outside threat could be worse than what she already confronted. Nothing else could frighten her. Then, amid the random thuds, came the unmistakable sound of human footsteps entering the hallway and halting outside the room.

  Tevi moved in reflex. Her hand leapt to her discarded sword, but her training held firm. She slipped it from its scabbard and rose without a sound. Firelight rippled over the blanket across the doorway. Tevi watched a hand appear around the edge. With unnerving nonchalance, the blanket was drawn aside, and a figure stepped into the room..

  The new arrival was an old man with skin like cracked leather. He was half naked and filthy. Rain plastered the scant white hair to his head and ran in clean lines through the dirt smeared across his sunken chest. Tattered rags flapped against the sinews of his legs. An incongruous garland of red leaves sagged wet about his neck.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” Tevi kept her voice level.

  “You’re upsetting my storm.”

  “Who are you?”

  “You’re drowning out the thunder.”

  “What do you want?”

  The old man showed no sign of hearing. His voice sunk to a mumble punctuated by “Whoosh, whoosh” in imitation of the wind. Tevi lowered her sword. He was clearly mad and probably harmless. Then, suddenly, he dropped to Jemeryl’s side and grabbed her shoulder. Tevi leapt forward, but a blow from an invisible fist slammed into her. She crashed backwards into the wall behind, stunned. The sword fell from her hand.

  It was several seconds before her head cleared. “You’re a sorcerer?”

  This time, he answered. “I’m me. I wanted to watch the storm, but you brought her here, and she’s all wrong. I heard her from up on the rocks, thinking she’s a dead magpie.”

  “Can you help he
r?” Tevi hardly dared hope.

  “I don’t help. I watch.”

  “She’ll die if you don’t.”

  He removed his skeletal hand from Jemeryl’s shoulder. “She’ll die if I do. We’ll all die. If isn’t in question, only when.”

  “True. But I don’t want the when to be now.”

  “Of course it will be now. All time is now sometime. It makes no difference.”

  Tevi struggled with the viewpoint. “Maybe it makes no difference to you, but it does to me. Jemeryl is running out of time. She’ll die very soon.”

  “Yes. Before tomorrow sunset, but not soon enough to stop her ruining my storm.” With a scowl of disgust, the hermit clambered to his feet and turned to the doorway.

  “You have to help us.”

  “No, I don’t.” The blanket swung closed behind him.

  His abrupt departure caught Tevi by surprise, staring in disbelief at the swaying curtain. Her inaction lasted only an instant. She hurtled after him into the dark, deserted hallway. The man was clearly a sorcerer of the mad-hermit type. He was also Jemeryl’s best hope.

  The wind was blowing a stream of leaves down the corridor. Tevi took a moment to check the dark recesses of the building before stepping out onto the open hillside. Within seconds, she was soaked to the skin. The storm pounded the mountains. Trees whipped and twisted in the gale. Bushes were flattened beneath the blasts. The crescent moon lit the chaos through holes torn in the clouds. Of the hermit, there was no sign.

  The ruined buildings were stable points amid the surging vegetation. Tevi struggled to the nearest and began searching, passing from one to another. Eventually, towards the top of the village, she found the hovel that was his home. A bed of bracken lined one wall. The floor held a cold central hearth and scattered rubbish, but the owner was not there.

  Several paths led away through the undergrowth, although the storm had washed away any footprints. Tevi shielded her eyes from the driving rain. An outcrop of rock broke the skyline above. The hermit claimed to have heard Jemeryl from the rocks. Perhaps he had returned to them. Tevi took the path up the hill.

  The trail climbed steeply. It swung around the rocks and looped back onto them from above, where they formed a natural platform, like a stage beneath the storm. The full force of the gale stuck Tevi as she emerged from the trees. The hermit was in the middle of the rock shelf with his back towards her. He had shed the remnants of clothing and danced naked in the rain to an unheard rhythm. His delicate, flowing footsteps seemed strangely at one with the violence of the elements.

  The hermit spoke, throwing the words over his shoulder. “Go away. You’ve spoiled my storm enough already.”

  “I need to talk to you!” Tevi shouted to be heard over the wind.

  “If you come onto my rocks, I’ll kill you.”

  “Maybe you will, and maybe you won’t. But if you don’t help me, Jemeryl will die, and I don’t think my life is worth living without her.”

  Tevi moved onto the rocks. Her feet slipped in the wetness, and her hands shot out for balance. The old sorcerer spun around, snarling in fury. A change swept over him. There was no visible alteration in his size, yet somehow, he seemed huge, as large and wild as the storm. He advanced towards Tevi. Lightning leapt between his fingers as he reached for her heart. Tevi held her ground, unflinching. The crackling bolts were within inches of her chest when the man hesitated. His illusion of personifying the storm faded.

  “You’re as mad as me,” he spat.

  “I love her. Have you never loved someone?”

  The hermit turned his face to the sky. For a long while, neither of them moved. Even the wind seemed muted.

  “Yes.” The word was only a whisper.

  “If you won’t help Jemeryl, can’t you tell me what to do?”

  “Call her.”

  “How?”

  “You know her name, don’t you?”

  “Is that all?”

  “If she wants to come back, she will.” The hermit’s voice broke, as if his words held some private tragedy.

  “Is there nothing else?”

  “Wait until dawn. The walls between worlds are softer then. There’s a bush by the door to my house. Crush three of its berries for her; the taste might help. But call her. That is all you, or anyone else, can do.”

  The hermit’s voice faded. He breathed in and out, then lowered his face to Tevi’s. His mouth worked soundlessly. Tevi was sure that not all the water about his eyes was rain.

  “Now leave me!” His final howl screeched above the wind.

  *

  Throughout the night, Tevi kept watch, not daring to sleep. She fed the fire, rubbed Jemeryl’s feet and hands, and paced the hallway. Some time after midnight, the rain moved away. The wind finally dropped just before dawn. It left a raw silence, broken only by the trickle and drip of water.

  Tevi stood in the outer doorway. The stars had lost their brilliance. Grey light picked out trees on the hill opposite, colouring them with a hint of green. Tevi glanced at the rocks above the village. It was impossible to tell if the hermit was still at his solitary dance. Not that it made any difference. Tevi was sure no more help was to be had from him.

  The fire had reduced to a pile of glowing embers. Tevi took down the blanket from over the door. New light bleached more colour from the dying flames. Jemeryl was unchanged. Her head lolled back, limp as a rag doll, when Tevi cradled her into a sitting position. Her jaw dropped open, slack and unresisting. Tevi crushed the berries between her fingers. The pulp made a dark stain on the thick white coat covering Jemeryl’s tongue.

  For a moment, hope deserted Tevi, but she could not give up. Not yet. She lay Jemeryl down and tried to pump up her confidence.

  “Jemeryl.” Tevi’s voice held clear and firm.

  There was no response.

  “Jemeryl,” Tevi repeated, and then “Jem!” urgently.

  Tevi’s hands shook. She sat back on her heels, not knowing what to do. The minutes trickled by, and nothing happened. She tried again, varying tone, volume, emphasis, anything she could think of. After a hundred times or more, she broke off and leapt up, ready to chase down the hermit. She stopped. The light in the hallway was strong enough to reveal the paler lines of mortar. The first true shaft of daylight ghosted the upper wall. Dawn had broken.

  Tevi fell back to her knees and stared at Jemeryl’s face. Sickening, gut-wrenching pain raked her. In agony, Tevi flung back her head and screamed, “Jemeryl!”

  A shudder washed over the unconscious woman, then a longer, slower movement as muscles tensed. Jemeryl’s eyelids fluttered. Disbelief froze Tevi for a moment before she hauled her lover into a crushing embrace.

  Jemeryl gasped and made a feeble effort to free herself. “Careful. My arm hurts.”

  *

  A nearby building yielded more wood to revive the fire. Jemeryl sat shivering in silence while Tevi related all that had happened since Levannue had brought down the cavern roof. The account was punctuated by frequent anxious looks. Jemeryl replied with weak smiles, but mostly, her eyes were fixed on the flames.

  “I didn’t realise when the hermit said ‘call you,’ he meant bawl my lungs out. But it worked, and you’ll be fine now, won’t you?”

  Jemeryl gave no answer. Reaching over, Tevi gently stroked her ashen face. Jemeryl leaned into the caress and closed her eyes.

  “Klara...”

  “She’s dead.” Tevi spoke softly.

  “I know.”

  “She can’t have suffered. It must have been very quick.”

  “It was.” Jemeryl’s face contorted in grief. “When I realised what Levannue was doing, I put a field up to cover myself. I should have cut loose from Klara, but I couldn’t bear to let her go. I tried to shield her, but I wasn’t strong enough. The stone hit, and she...wasn’t there. Just a hole. I fell in and...I’m lost. I can’t tell where I am. I can’t even see you, except with my eyes, and I could always see you so clearly.” Jemeryl slumped forward.<
br />
  “You can’t see me? But you’re not blind,” Tevi said, puzzled. “Do you mean your extra senses?”

  Jemeryl nodded.

  “All of them?”

  “I...it’s...”

  “You mean you’re not a sorcerer anymore?” Tevi bit her tongue at her tactlessness.

  “No.” Jemeryl’s shoulders shook.

  Tevi held her close for a long time. Eventually, Jemeryl pulled free. Her expression became apologetic at the distress on Tevi’s face.

  “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You’ll get better...won’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I must get back to the Protectorate. Perhaps someone there can help, but right now, I won’t qualify as a third-rate witch.” Jemeryl’s brave smile was blatantly forced. “It’s awful. I don’t know how you stand it.”

  “It’s all I’m used to. Come on; you’ll feel better after breakfast.”

  “I don’t think I can face food.”

  “You didn’t eat yesterday.”

  “I know. I feel like I’ve been through a mangle. My head aches and my arm’s throbbing. I can tell you did a good job, but...” Jemeryl met Tevi’s eyes. “I don’t mean to sound pathetic. Just hold me for a while longer, please.”

  Tevi did so; however, they both felt a rising urgency. A long walk lay ahead, all the worse with Jemeryl’s weakened state, and they dare not let winter catch them in the wildlands. After a few minutes of comfort in each other’s arms, they ate and packed quickly. Soon, they were ready to leave.

  It quickly became clear that Jemeryl was not exaggerating her frailty. She needed help across the stream and was stumbling before they were halfway up the hillside. When she slid to her knees for the second time, Tevi ignored her protests and carried her to the dwarf road. Once there, they stood looking back at the village, while Jemeryl caught her breath. There was no sign of the hermit.

  “I guess it’s the remains of the old retreat. He must be the last survivor,” Jemeryl said between gulps of air. “I wish I could remember what they were studying. Did he give any clue?”