Companion of Darkness_An Epic Fantasy Series

by CJ Rutherford

  “I dearly wish I could show you my home, Jes.” His voice thickened with emotion. “’Tis a wonder to behold. There are caverns, hundreds of feet high and miles wide, studded with precious stones, and rivers of metal flowing through the veins.”

  “You can’t leave? But I thought…”

  Hoggan’s head dropped. “No, child. I am as much a prisoner here as you. True, I have been here much longer and know how to keep my head down and stay out of trouble.” He winked at me. “’Tis unfortunate you have been chosen as the princess’s latest plaything, but she may tire of you eventually, and there are worse places to be trapped than the Citadel.”

  “What do you mean, latest? How many have there been?”

  “Lyssa was born in the same year as you, as you know. In her one hundred years, she has had two companions before you.” Hoggan’s face darkened, his expression saddening. “She really was a sweet thing at first, before the change.”

  My eyes narrowed. “The change? What do you mean?”

  He turned his back to me and grasped the wall. “What I am about to tell you has been an unspoken secret within these walls for centuries. I arrived here over two hundred years ago, when my father, the King under the Mountain, sent me as hostage. In that time, I have witnessed the fall of the eldar.”

  My breath shook as I whispered the words I’d wanted to ask him for days. “It’s the curse, isn’t it?”

  Hoggan’s eyes widened before a wry smile appeared. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. Tell me, child. Who told you of the curse? No, wait. Let me guess… A certain golden friend of mine comes to mind. Am I correct?”

  “Glyran mentioned it on the way here,” I revealed, “but he didn’t give me any details. I got the impression he couldn’t.”

  “There aren’t many details to be found, I’m afraid, except for the prophecy.”

  This was exactly what I needed. “What does it say, this prophecy?”

  Hoggan waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Oh, it was a scroll written an age ago, with your usual vague mumbo jumbo. You know the sort. A savior will find the keys to unlock the bindings of the curse. That’s the short version by the way.”

  “Can I see it?” I asked, the butterflies back in my stomach.

  Hoggan shook his head. “I made the mistake of showing the scroll to the king.” His eyes hardened. “I thought he might help, but he was too far gone. The corruption is eating him up, day by day, and he took the scroll from me. I’m unsure if he destroyed it, or hid it away, but I never saw it again. There is no love lost between dwelf and eldar, child, but it pains me to watch this, to see an innocent child turn into a monster.” Hoggan sighed. “Her first companion was a young pure-blooded eldar girl, a waif of a thing from the eastern reaches. Lyssa was relatively untainted back then, so they had around seven decades of happiness before the torture began. It was small things at first, snide comments and such. But I knew Lyssa was gauging how much she could get away with. When she realized her parents didn’t care a squat, the gloves came off.”

  I touched his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. It must have been terrible for him to witness. A part of me even felt sorry for the princess…a very small part.

  “In the end, the girl’s death was a release.” Hoggan’s knuckles cracked as he clenched them. “She took her own life rather than be subjected to the daily degradation Lyssa had become so adept at dishing out.”

  He turned away again, and a growl escaped his lips. “Her next…victim—companion, however you may describe him—was little more than a babe, barely a decade of age, the son of an eldar male and a lower elf female. Lyssa considered the pairing to be an insult.” Hoggan turned to me, his eyes tinged with the silver of unshed tears. “Jes, you think what you endure at her hands to be torture, but it pales when compared to what she did to that poor child.”

  He grasped the edge of the battlements and looked out over the expanse of greenery on the horizon. His knuckles whitened. “Then she heard you, that day in the forest, and asked her parents to have you instead. When they refused, she was furious. A week later the child was found on the plain, ripped apart. The scent of dragon was on him.”

  My stomach clenched so hard I had to swallow the bile threatening to spill from my mouth. I wanted to scream. She’d called a dragon and forced it to kill the child, all because she wanted me. “He died…and it was my fault,” I whispered, my voice… my whole body quivering.

  Hoggan’s head snapped round. He stepped over and took my hands. “No, child. None of this is your fault. None of this is even Lyssa’s, or her family’s fault. No…’tis the curse. ’Tis all the curse. And all we can do is stand and watch.”

  Suddenly, something stirred within me, like a spark igniting a wave of indigo flame that rose to fill my soul.

  “No, Hoggan. There is something we can do.” I took his hand and we stood on the edge of the walls, looking over the Citadel. “We’ll find these keys, whatever they are. And we will break this curse and free the people of this world.”

  Hoggan’s eyes lit up as he looked at me. “By the Smith, the prophecy!” His gaze intensified, and I almost heard the thoughts, and my stomach lurched. No!

  He grasped his head in both hands. “Curse my memory. I wish I could remember it all, Jes, but what I recall…” He stared at me, his eyes widening in realization. “It could be you!”

  I stepped away, my heart racing as I shook my head in denial. “You said it yourself, Hoggan. It’s a load of mumbo jumbo. I’m not anyone’s savior.”

  He hesitated before taking my hand and kneeling before me. “Perhaps you are right, child. But can you promise me something?” I hesitated for a long moment before nodding reluctantly. “Tell me you aren’t a savior when we’ve failed to save the races from the darkness, but until then, what say you to giving it your best shot?”

  I couldn’t help it. The butterflies erupted from my stomach and into my chest, causing my heart to flutter with pride. Maybe I…we…could do this. Hoggan knew the Citadel, and I might have found one of the keys. I just had to get past a dragon to get it!

  Chapter Five

  The Citadel

  “Do you see it, lass?” Hoggan asked as we stood on the balcony of one of the highest spires of the Citadel. I followed his outstretched hand for maybe the tenth time, to look at the patch of night sky he indicated. Millions of stars twinkled in the heavens, but he’d spent the best part of an hour pointing out the same half dozen, over and over.

  “I…I think so.”

  Hoggan grumped in frustration. “Faeries! You never had a sense for the signs sown in the skies.”

  “So, this Asteron—”

  “Astalon!” Hoggan ground out between gritted teeth. “It’s Astalon the Smith. Not Asteron, Astaloon, or Asterix…ASTALON!”

  I hid a smirk behind my hand. “Okay, grumpy dwelf. Ast…A…Lon, right?”

  Hoggan’s brows knitted. I’d never seen him angry, and it was hilarious. I fought to keep from laughing aloud. He managed a brief nod.

  “Astalon the Smith,” I said, rolling the unfamiliar words around my mouth. “He’s your…god?”

  Hoggan’s shoulders slumped in resignation. “Come here, Jes. Come sit beside me.”

  “You’re not going to make me look at the sky again?” I asked in as childlike a voice as I could manage.

  “No. I think we’ve wasted enough time on stupid stargazing, but to answer your question, Astalon the Smith is one of the lesser gods the people worship, but he is the only one the Great Maker deemed worthy of a place in the stars.” Hoggan sighed and his gaze grew contemplative. “The legend says that Astalon was so gifted at the anvil, he could turn iron to gold with a single blow of his great hammer, Gravis.” Hoggan looked up at the sky again. “It was said that Gravis was a gift from the Maker himself.”

  That was too much. I couldn’t stop the snort as it escaped my throat. “Why does everyone assume the Great Maker is male?”

  Hoggan sat back, looking thoroughly co
nfused. “Because the Maker is male, child. He must be. Why else would he raise Astalon to the heavens?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I replied nonchalantly, waving my hand in the general direction of the constellation I’d been studiously refusing to see all evening. “Maybe for the same reason she raised Gaelen the Giver. I pointed to the sky. “If you look really carefully, you can see her, just to the right of Astalon.”

  Hoggan’s mouth dropped open so wide I thought his jaw had dislocated. Then it closed. Then it opened again. I almost burst into a fit of giggles. His normally ruddy brown complexion began to turn the shade of purple you might see on a still lake as the sun set.

  “You little minx!” he spurted out between reddening lips. A whisper of panic ghosted over me, but then the loudest, coarsest laugh rattled the air. Hoggan collapsed onto his knees, clutching his sides. “You knew.” The words were squeaked out between the guffaws.

  I don’t know how, but I kept my face a mask of resolute calm as I said, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I mean, the faer have never had a sense for the signs sown in the skies.”

  I thought Hoggan might combust as his laughter turned to howls of mirth. That did it. My self-control shattered and I too began to laugh. Before I knew it I was on my knees beside Hoggan, hugging him, both of us shaking uncontrollably with laughter.

  We ended up on the floor of the balcony looking up at the canopy of stars. It seemed an age went by before either of us could speak.

  “So, this Astaloony guy.” Hoggan stiffened momentarily before I heard a quiet chuckle. “You pray to him?”

  “Aye lass,” Hoggan replied, his voice barely steady but trying, unsuccessfully, to return to respectful reverence. “And we tithe a fraction of all we craft, so he might bless all our other works.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh?”

  “Oh.”

  There was a long pause, then, “What do you mean, oh?”

  “Nothing.” I sighed theatrically. “I just wondered what might happen if you didn’t, you know…tithe? Like, would Mr. Smith get really annoyed and make your iron underwear rust?”

  Hoggan was silent for a long time, long enough that I wondered if he was considering going back to his rooms to check his breeches. Then he laughed again, and I smiled at the warmth it held.

  “Lass, you are the most precious article in this deep, dark place, but if you ever call Astalon Mr. Smith again, I will do one of two things.”

  I considered another ‘Oh?’ but simply stayed silent, waiting expectantly.

  Hoggan held up two fingers against the stars. “One. I will sacrifice you to the Smith on the red moon of the first autumn solstice.”

  I waited for a long moment before replying. “Sounds overly dramatic, don’t you think? Red moon, red blood. That’s an awful lot of red. It might clash with my dress. I look terrible in red.” I raised myself up onto an elbow and looked across at his form. He lay so still he appeared like a corpse, and a chill passed over me before I saw his chest rise as he chuckled again. “So what’s number two?”

  Hoggan smiled but didn’t move. “I will gift you your very own set of iron underthings and make you wear them for a month.”

  Now my jaw dropped open and Hoggan’s head swiveled round to spear me with his gaze. “And then we’ll see whose rusts first.”

  We laughed until our sides hurt again, and our lungs demanded air, then we lay quietly, watching the stars. We spent the entire night on the balcony, but it wasn’t until the deepest dark moment before the dawn that both of us saw it.

  The stars had moved across the sky, and Astalon and Gaelen approached the horizon, being chased by the rising sun. They had shifted somehow, grown closer to each other, and Hoggan reached to grasp my hand even as I scrabbled for his.

  “Do you see it, lass?”

  I saw it. The stars had shifted. In the skies, the constellations of the Smith and the Giver kissed.

  “If only our leaders could be here now to see this,” I whispered.

  Hoggan sighed. “Aye.” He took a deep breath as he got to his feet. He reached down to take my hand, helping me up. “Maybe someday, when all this business with the curse is done with. Maybe then we can begin to heal the rifts in this poisoned world.”

  Hoggan walked me only as far as my rooms, but the hope he’d instilled in me followed me into my dreams.

  I knew right away something was wrong. Hoggan’s plate was empty.

  “Sit down, lass,” he said. He struggled to keep his voice steady, but I could hear the sadness. I sat down slowly, and Hoggan took my hands. “I received news from the king today, Jes.”

  What remained of my smile disappeared instantly. It had only been a week, but a week filled with fun and happiness that had dimmed the memory of Lyssa’s cruelty. He nodded grimly. “Yes, last night was our last night of mischief and mayhem.” He kept his tone light and airy, but it was an act.

  I put my hand to my mouth to smother a sob. “When will I see you again?”

  He sighed. “We live at the whim of the king, lass. I know not what task he has planned for me next.” His fingers fisted, and I heard his knuckles crack. “You, it pains me to say, will accompany the princess on a visit to a keep on the South Sea. You leave the day after tomorrow.” He smiled wryly. “It seems there is a lord there the royal family have deemed may be suitable as a mate…sorry, a husband to the princess.”

  I grimaced at the thought. Like the faeries, the dwelves mated for life. The eldar in centuries past had done the same, but now they took a husband—or a wife—for a number of years, written down in a contract. I pitied the poor elf selected by Lyssa’s parents, praying to the Maker that the contract would be a short one.

  I leaned down and embraced my friend, tears welling at the corners of my eyes. “I will miss you.” I planted a delicate kiss on his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard tickling my chin.

  His voice caught. “I will miss you too, my friend.” He leaned in close, whispering. “I have left a present, in the place you’ve hidden my other gift. Keep it safe from unfriendly eyes.” Something in his voice suggested he didn’t just mean Lyssa.

  With that, he turned and walked to the circle, his heavy boots thudding on the marble. Then he was gone.

  The tray of water and bread, along with a small bowl of bland porridge appeared on my dresser, confirming my regime of torture had resumed. Brecca shuffled in, to fulfill the illusion of me needing assistance to dress myself. The straight shift I wore was a simple matter to slip over my head. It was only now I realized Brecca had been absent along with the princess. I was shocked. How had I missed that?

  “May I help with your hair, milady?” Brecca’s voice was cold and clipped, and she limped as she pulled the stool out for me to sit. I wanted to ask what had happened, what Lyssa had subjected her to over the last week.

  Maker! Guilt swam over me. While I’d spent the time making friends and having fun, Brecca had been at the mercy of that evil bitch. It came over me like a wave. I didn’t understand any of this. I was a puppet, my strings controlled by the royal family. I was here, and I would do anything they wanted me to. I could do nothing to resist, but Brecca had been here for years, years of abuse and cruelty.

  As Brecca ran a brush though my hair, I reached back, dangling my hand close to the ground. I stroked my fingers along her bark-like calves. I was about to whisper how sorry I was when her fingers closed gently on my shoulders. They were warm, much warmer than I imagined they could be. It seeped through me, the heat melting the core of fear and ice. I knew Brecca couldn’t betray her real feelings. I’d known since the night she revealed she saw through the spell of this room. This was a message, conveyed in the only way she could. Through touch.

  “Your hair is dry, milady. I shall get a balm to moisten it.” She turned and left the room. I ran my fingers through my hair. It wasn’t dry at all. And the way she’d said balm.

  I kicked myself. Hoggan had placed his gift in the place I’d hidden his se
cret healing balm. Brecca had just reminded me, but why had she left?

  Then it hit me. Keep it safe from unfriendly eyes. Brecca was the spy? Unwilling perhaps…definitely unwilling, I suspected, but as I put the pieces together I felt it was true. Lyssa used her to spy on me, which was why she’d just left, to allow me to retrieve Hoggan’s gift…which meant they were working together. I rubbed my brows. This was all so confusing. I was supposed to be a companion, a plaything, to the princess, but it seemed Hoggan and Brecca thought I was something more.

  I shuddered, hugging my chest as a chill passed through me. They were wrong. I didn’t want to fulfill some ancient prophecy. All I wanted to do was go home, but despite that I rose to my feet and reached to the back of the wardrobe. My hands passed over the folded shifts and felt the smooth surface of the crystal container, but there was something else. My fingers touched a crisp surface, and I pulled out a scroll of ancient parchment. It was a pale cream color, and so thin the rising sunlight shone through it with no shadow.

  My hands shook as I laid it on my bed and unraveled it. It was a map…a map of all the circles in the Citadel! Glyran’s words echoed in my head. There were secrets here. Now, with this gift I could find them.

  “What have you got there?”

  I reeled around, my heart threatening to jump from my chest. Lyssa stood at my door. Her eyes flashed and I took a step back. Hate hit me like a wave, harder than anything before. All I wanted was to block my ability to sense her feelings, but I also wanted to stand, to look her in the eyes, and confront her over what she’d done to Brecca.

  I did. The fear finally vanished. My breast swelled as I realized I was capable of this; I was no longer utterly terrified. The knowledge that I had allies gave me strength…which flared for the briefest instant. I had the power to confront this deepest evil, I was certain of it, and a power I’d never sensed before arose. My fingers burned. My eyes burned. I felt my skin ready to ignite, then it dissipated, vanishing like a dog’s tail between its legs as the fear leeched any defiance from my soul.