Age of Myth

by Michael J. Sullivan

  “Whoa!” Suri shouted, shaking the water from her hair. The wolf did the same, but without the exclamation. “We showed ole Char, didn’t we?” she said to Minna. “Gave him a mark he’ll remember. Now his name really suits him. Ha!” The girl was grinning, beaming with enthusiasm. Throwing her arms around the wolf, she praised her. “And you were great, Minna. Slammed him good, you did. Sure showed him this time. You’re my hero, Minna!”

  “You’ve fought them before?” Raithe asked. The big man’s hair was flattened, slick and sticking to his forehead. His beard rained on the stone.

  “All the time. Char is a rude neighbor. He and Minna don’t get along. He’s jealous because Minna loves me more.”

  The falls drowned out most of the night’s sounds, but Persephone heard howling. “Can they reach us?”

  Suri nodded. “They’ll be here shortly,” she added with a bright smile. “Always takes them a while to run back around the ridge. I keep waiting for them to try jumping, but they haven’t yet. Char isn’t very bright.”

  Persephone worriedly looked at Suri’s soaked torches. “What are we going to do?”

  “Disappear,” Suri said with a wink.

  “What?”

  The girl laughed. The sound was high and childlike, not the sort to provide reassurance when facing a ravenous pack of wolves while trapped behind a waterfall. Persephone looked to Raithe but found little comfort in his eyes. The Dureyan warrior looked back with a tense expression.

  “This way,” the mystic said, and stepped into a crack in the rock. Persephone discovered it was more than just a crack, a cleft wide but low. Everyone except Minna had to duck as they moved through. Behind them, the howls grew louder.

  “Where are we going?” Persephone asked as they shuffled between walls of stone.

  No longer muffled by the hills and trees, the crisp yips of the pack carried clearly. Then she heard a splash. They’re here!

  “Over here,” Suri said, and an eerie, green glow pierced the darkness as a door opened in the rock. The mystic waved for them to follow, and once more she led by example, stepping inside.

  With the sounds of splashing right behind, no one hesitated. Heedless of what new horror she might find, Persephone rushed through the stone wall into the new world of green light. Suri shut the door.

  All four of them, plus Minna, stood in a chamber not much larger than a roundhouse. Hewn from solid rock, the room was grander than Dahl Rhen’s Great Hall. Thick pillars carved from natural stone formed sturdy supports. Austere blocks formed a fortified hall of strength, precision, and uniformity. The clever use of space and tapering angles of square columns and ribbed archways possessed a grace and beauty that awed Persephone. Running in a line around the ceiling, down the edge of walls, and along the borders of the floor were chiseled markings—strange patterns forming an unbroken chain. Stylized pictures were carved on every surface, short people fighting taller ones. Embedded in the center of the floor, where a roundhouse’s fire would have been, a large green stone glowed with a steady light. Although not bright, it shone enough to fill the room with an eerie radiance.

  “What world have we stumbled into?” Raithe asked. His head turned left and then right while he gripped his sword.

  “An old one,” Malcolm replied.

  “Is this your home?” Persephone asked Suri.

  The girl’s face reflected the absurdity of the question. “Nooo.” She dragged the word out. “Stone walls are almost as bad as wooden ones. I live in Hawthorn Glen, one of the loveliest little places you’ll ever see.”

  “Is this one of those crimbal doors you spoke about? The ones that lead to Nog?”

  Again the mystic shook her head.

  Sounds of growling and the scrape of claws on stone startled everyone except Suri and Minna. Raithe pulled his sword and slipped on his shield.

  Suri chuckled. “They can’t get in.”

  Raithe moved forward and touched the stone’s decorative border that marked the place where they had entered. Except for the carving, no discernible evidence of an opening remained—not even a crack.

  “How did you open it?” Raithe asked, returning the weapon to his belt. “And how is it sealed?”

  “The door will open if you press the diamond shape in the design at the top. On the outside there’s no design, just a little rock sticking out a bit. You have to feel around to find it, and it’s too high for the pack to reach.”

  Persephone looked around and saw no other exit. “We’re trapped, then.”

  Suri pulled off her cape and draped it over a horizontal pole mounted in the wall, which seemed put there for that exact purpose. Minna sniffed around the chamber. Neither appeared concerned. “The pack will eventually get frustrated and leave. We have a while before they do. Char is stubborn. We’ll spend the night to be sure.”

  The scratching and barking continued at the door, but it became clear the pack wasn’t getting in. Persephone relaxed and allowed her shoulders to droop. Now she noticed the cold. She removed Raithe’s leigh mor and wrung water from it and her hair. Snapping the blanket-sized cloth, she wrapped herself again.

  “What made you come back for us?” Persephone asked, moving closer to the glowing stone and hoping it would be warm like a fire. It wasn’t.

  Suri untied her deer-tooth belt. “Got your message.”

  This caused them all to glance over.

  “We didn’t send any message,” Raithe said, shaking the water from his hair and stroking more from his beard.

  Suri stripped off her vest and skirt, hanging both alongside her cape, leaving her naked. Persephone glanced toward Malcolm and Raithe. They had discreetly turned their attention to the marks lining the room. Persephone appreciated the gesture even if Suri didn’t seem to care.

  The mystic’s tattoos weren’t confined to her face. Similar designs graced her whole body. A pair of twisted tendrils ran along Suri’s collarbone, and another line ran straight down the center of her chest before curling around her back. Thick swirling bands like a tree’s roots encircled her arms from elbows to shoulders.

  “If you didn’t send a message, then Wogan must have been in a generous mood,” Suri said. “I wasn’t even to the pines when I saw a squirrel drop his acorn and run back down the tree to get it. So Minna and I raced back as fast as we could.”

  The girl wasn’t as thin as Persephone had expected. Suri’s hip bones did stand out and ribs were easily counted, but the weight the girl did have was all muscle.

  “Took me a while to find you,” Suri went on. “Where were you headed to, anyway? I thought you were going back to the dahl.”

  “We were,” Persephone said. “But we missed a turn.”

  “I’ll say. You were going exactly the wrong way. Being touched as you are from living where you do, I figured you were hunting Grin. I followed your trail, and you were heading straight for her cave.”

  “That wasn’t our intention. We were lost,” Persephone said.

  “Should have thrown a bit of salt on your trail. That would have kept the leshies away.”

  Raithe sent a sharp look at Malcolm, who shrugged.

  “How did you find this place?” Malcolm asked, still looking at the chiseled markings that lined the room.

  “Tura showed me.” Suri busied herself by squeezing the wetness out of her clothes. “Not many secrets in this forest that old Tura didn’t know. There’s five of these stone rooms under the Crescent. Most are nicer than this. Pretty metal shirts are inside some. I tried one on, real heavy and too small. Another one has horns, pipes, and a box with strings that make wonderful sounds when you pluck them.”

  Satisfied with her clothes, Suri walked behind one of the pillars and returned with her arms filled with blankets. She handed them out—thick soft cloths, one of which Persephone draped around herself. Suri wrapped one over her shoulders and lay down beside the green stone. Minna snuggled up alongside the mystic.

  “This is a rol—a Dherg safe house.” Malcolm pu
lled his blanket up like a cloak, complete with a hood. “A remnant of the Belgric War.”

  “The what?” Raithe asked.

  “A war between the Fhrey and the Dherg, who used hidden places like this to retreat to or stage attacks from. That’s where the term Dherg comes from. It means ‘vile mole’ in the Fhrey language.”

  “How do you know that?” Persephone asked.

  Malcolm shrugged. “I lived with the Fhrey.”

  “You fought for them?” Persephone asked, focusing more on his spear than on the man.

  “No, nothing like that. I was a slave.” Malcolm touched the metal band around his neck.

  “Oh,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Wasn’t so bad. Alon Rhist is a beautiful place. I suspect my life was better than it would have been in one of the Rhune villages. I was warm, safe, had plenty of food, and a lot to learn.”

  “You ran away?”

  “Yes.” Malcolm paused, his eyes betraying a faraway thought. “Funny how being well cared for isn’t enough. My labors were light, and as long as I performed my tasks, I wasn’t poorly treated. In some ways, I was living a princely life, but…” He pulled his blanket tighter. “Raithe and I haven’t had a decent meal in days. We’re always wet, cold, hungry, and dirty beyond belief. And yet I much prefer my new life over the days spent in Alon Rhist.”

  He sat down near the glowing stone. “Fulfillment comes from striving to succeed, to survive by your own wits and strength. Such things make each of us who we are.” Using the blanket, he rubbed his hair. “You lose that in captivity, lose yourself, and that loss saps your capacity for joy. I think comfort can be a curse, an addiction that without warning or notice erodes hope. You know what I mean?” He looked at each of them, but no one answered. “Live with it long enough and the prison stops being the walls or the guards. Instead, it’s the fear you can’t survive on your own, the belief you aren’t as capable, or as worthy, as others. I think everyone has the capacity to do great things, to rise above their everyday lives; they just need a little push now and then.”

  Minna’s head lifted. Her ears tilted toward the door.

  Outside the growls grew louder, though the scratching had stopped. A yelp was cut short. A thunderous roar followed, making them all jump.

  Another wolf cried out and then a third.

  Suri startled everyone by shouting, “Don’t be a stubborn fool, Char! Run!”

  “What’s going on?” Persephone asked, but Suri was too focused on the sounds beyond the door.

  Another wolf yelped, and Suri got to her feet. So did Minna. Neither left the light of the green stone, but both stared fearfully at the closed entrance.

  Silence. Not a sound from inside or out.

  Suri’s tattoos masked much of her expression, but tears ran down her cheeks. “You should have run, you stupid, stupid fool,” she whispered.

  Persephone could hear her breathing as they waited. “Suri, what just—”

  BOOM!

  Each of them jumped as something powerful struck the stone door.

  Raithe drew his sword again. It flashed green, reflecting the glow of the stone. Malcolm grabbed his spear, letting his blanket fall.

  BOOM!

  Dust and bits of rock flew.

  They all got to their feet then.

  “What is that?” Raithe asked.

  “Grin,” Suri replied.

  For the first time, Persephone saw unabashed fear on the girl’s face.

  “Can she get in?”

  Suri hesitated, and everyone knew the answer before she replied, “On her hind legs, she’s twice as tall as me.”

  “Is there any way to brace the door?” Persephone asked.

  Suri shook her head.

  BOOM!

  “Will it hold against the pounding?” Malcolm asked as another cloud of dust and stone chips flew from the wall.

  “It is just a bear, right?” Persephone asked. “Why would she try to get in here?”

  “She wants us for dinner, I think,” Raithe replied.

  “But why? I’m pretty sure she just killed more than one wolf. Should have plenty of food already. More than she can possibly eat.”

  BOOM!

  Persephone felt the power of the blow shake the room. A small metal shield that she hadn’t seen earlier fell off the wall. It rolled, wobbling faster and faster before coming to a noisy stop.

  BOOM!

  “Why would a bear ignore a feast to throw itself against a stone wall?” Malcolm asked.

  They braced for the next attack. Instead, the roar came again.

  They waited.

  Silence.

  Suri walked to the door, her cheeks still wet. She placed her hands against the stone.

  They all waited.

  Then Suri turned. “She’s gone.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Galantians

  There is an old clan saying: When a stranger comes to the door, always be generous because it might be a god in disguise. In my experience, gods do not use disguises. They are too arrogant.

  —THE BOOK OF BRIN

  The next morning they found six dead wolves outside the rol. No sign of Grin the Brown, only the bodies and the blood spattered on the crevice’s stone walls. Suri paused for several minutes beside the wolf with the burn mark on its fur.

  The men kept their blankets but Persephone and Suri put the others back. Raithe also took the metal shield that had fallen during Grin’s attack. Remarkably light, it was decorated with the same fancy circles and designs as those on the walls of the rol. Raithe offered to draw straws with Malcolm for it, but the ex-slave declined. He preferred the spear and needed both hands to wield it.

  A morning mist filled the forest. In the days he and Malcolm had spent in the Crescent, Raithe had seen it many times, but the haze was still unnerving. There were no forests in Dureya, and the few trees that managed to grow were stunted, emaciated things. He’d grown up in open, rocky highlands of grass and lichen-covered stone, and it felt unnatural to be surrounded by trees and wrapped in fog. The haze further supported Raithe’s belief that they were walking in a perilous world of guarded secrets and murky mysteries. Trees appeared and faded in the mist as if by choice—silent watchers, sentinels of spirits and gods. Caught early enough, the waking forest had no time to disguise itself into something mundane. This was a place of enchantments, a place where anything could happen.

  Suri led them back through the falls and up to the ridge, taking time to explain where they had gone wrong. The mystic pointed at trees as if one could be distinguished from another. When she was done all three nodded, even though Raithe remained clueless. By the time they returned to the cascade, the mist was in full retreat and lingered only in isolated low-lying areas.

  The men’s bodies were gone. Persephone scanned the rocks with apprehensive eyes. Raithe created a mental list of who or what might have taken the men: spirits, more wolves, Grin the Brown, Wogan, or perhaps the inhabitants of the dahl. That last one troubled him, but his empty stomach concerned him more. He wanted to ask Persephone if she intended to make good on the promise of a meal, but he refrained. They hadn’t spoken much that morning. The quiet of the wood demanded silence.

  When at long last they cleared the tree line and returned to the open field, all of them except Suri gained a spring in their step. Once more the blue of a peerless sky stretched above, and the unhindered face of the sun shone down. The great wooden wall of Dahl Rhen crowned the hill of spring flowers. Wet grass soaked their legs as they climbed the slope where already Raithe could smell food. As they neared the top, a horn announced their approach.

  “That’s an all clear, right?” Raithe asked Persephone.

  She nodded, holding the hem of her dress up and exposing sodden sandals speckled with bits of grass. “It would be two blasts for an alert and three for a call-to-arms threat.”

  “Same as in Dureya,” he said.

  Persephone nodded, smiling.

 
; “I’m just so glad to be back. I don’t think I’ve ever missed this place so much. It feels like I’ve been away for a year rather than only a day. A long and incredibly frightening year. I’m going to sleep well tonight.”

  Suri stopped. “I expect you can find your way from here, ma’am?”

  “Yes, Suri.” Persephone rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I can get lost within sight of my home. But won’t you please come in with us? The least I can do is get you a meal. You saved my life. You have to let me do that much.”

  The girl hesitated, then glanced at Minna. “What do you think? Their food was pretty good.”

  “Come. Eat. Spend the night,” Persephone told her. “You can leave fresh in the morning.”

  The girl whispered to the wolf, “One more night won’t make us touched, Minna. But if you see me wearing shoes, bite me.”

  Raithe discovered that Dahl Rhen was nothing like Dahl Dureya. Inside, the village was huge and packed with roundhouses built with the luxury of logs sealed with daub. The thickly thatched roofs formed tall, cone-shaped peaks. Torches lined gravel paths that snaked between the homes, and a broad gravel avenue ran up the center of the village to the lodge and the common well. Filling gaps between dark-soil gardens were fire pits and woodpiles.

  Woodpiles!

  In Dureya, wood was more precious than metal. Here, the villagers burned it even though it wasn’t night or winter. The series of vertical logs surrounding the village were crucial for protection, and even inside, wooden fences bordered gardens. Probably the only way to keep the goats and pigs out. Along with chickens, the animals wandered freely underfoot. Raithe checked Minna, but the wolf paid no attention to any of the livestock and stayed at the mystic’s side.

  Dominating everything was the lodge. The huge building sat in the middle of the dahl at the opposite end of the gravel pathway. Perched on a foundation of stone, the big wooden house was four times the size of Dureya’s lodge. Squared beams braced the peaks and framed great doors. Pillars formed by binding together the trunks of six giant pine trees stood on either side of the porch.