She looked up again when the area around her cleared. They were nearly to the edge of the forest. To the south, her warriors had forced nearly one hundred of the beasts backward, and the groeliin moved as if to flee but hit something like an invisible wall that held them just at the edge of the forest.
Nahrsin led a furious charge of Antrilii at the groeliin from the west, also caught between the charging Magi and the invisible wall. The creatures howled a horrible scream before falling. Several were killed by their own as they clawed away from the Antrilii only to meet the strange force holding them within the forest.
To the north, the beasts fighting in front of her had been driven into the same invisible wall.
It was the same all along the forest edge. There were strange, horrible screams, and a painful hissing sound as the groeliin hit the wall, and then silence. They were all dead. Slaughtered.
“What is this?” Zamell asked, panting. The last of the groeliin had fallen silent.
Roelle looked around. Tall trees stretched all around them, ending abruptly where the groeliin died. Had they been held within the forest?
The question was edged with disappointment. The Deshmahne hadn’t come.
She hadn’t known if they would and knew that she couldn’t count on them, but there was a part of her that had hoped, even knowing that their assistance likely wouldn’t change the ultimate outcome. How would they be able to stop ten thousand groeliin, even if they tripled their numbers with the Deshmahne?
And would they even be able to trust the Deshmahne were they to show?
Yet… now another possibility presented itself, but one that seemed impossible to believe, only what other answer was there?
Roelle found Selton. He was bloodied, but none of it appeared his. She noted three dead groeliin near him. His jaw was set in a frown. How long had it been since he’d smiled? How long had it been since her friend had been the man she remembered? Would they all change so much because of what they face?
“I need Lendra,” she told Selton.
“Why?”
“Lendra mentioned that the forest was the home of the gods. What if the gods are actually helping us?”
And if they were, how could they use this to their advantage?
Chapter Twenty-One
As they made their way through the Great Forest, Jakob had the unsettling sensation that something was watching him. It was the same sensation he'd had on the other side of the Great Valley, when he'd been in the forest over there. He remembered the visions that had come to him, giving him memories of a past that could not have been his, and of creatures that seemed far too knowing. Now, he had a sense that there was something else watching. Something more.
Was it the nemerahl?
Anda said the creatures weren’t on this side of the Valley, but what if it had followed them? If it had, why would it have followed them?
His arm throbbed where he’d been injured. The Deshmahne sword had not been poisoned—thankfully—but he felt as if he healed slowly. But he knew he had no reason to complain. Brohmin had been injured more severely, and though healed by Salindra, he moved slowly.
Jakob still hadn't fully recovered from the most recent dream—vision—he’d experienced. He didn't understand what it meant and didn't understand what it tried to show him, but he had little doubt there was something to it.
He’d wanted to talk to Anda about it but wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. Could even the gods have viewed the daneamiin negatively?
They covered even less distance today, the dense underbrush slowing most of them. Anda had an ability to move through the forest seemingly unencumbered by the undergrowth. It seemed almost as if the trees and the branches, some with sharp thorns and brambles, pulled away from her giving her freedom to move. There were times Jakob wished he had such freedom.
He found himself watching her, amazed by the grace she had shown, comforted by her presence. Ahmaean surrounded her and surrounded the trees and plants and the life around him.
What did it mean for him that he could see it so clearly now? What was he becoming?
When the visions had first begun, when he first felt that sense that they were followed, he had thought that perhaps he was going mad. His brother had changed so much when it started to happen to him—having visions and hallucinations—that Jakob now wondered if there was more to that. Could there be more to the madness than he knew?
It was a question neither he nor Brohmin had an answer for. Jakob held out hope that when they reached the goddess, he could ask her for help with his brother. And not only Scottan but others like him. Many others suffered from the same illness. Was it coincidence, or was there some connection?
They found a small clearing with a stream burbling through. The trees created a gentle canopy overhead, letting some light through, enough to see a blue sky overhead. A soft wind tugged at the upper branches of the trees but wasn’t felt near the ground.
Salindra took Brohmin’s arm, forcing him to sit. “I know you think you’ve recovered, and you heal faster than most, but you’ve slowed down as the day has gone on, Brohmin,” she said to him softly. “You pushed yourself too hard yesterday.”
“We need to reach her. I feel her urgency.”
“And we will, but if you push so hard that you can’t go on? How will that help her?” Brohmin slumped to the forest floor, and Salindra went to get him water. She filled a few flasks and brought them to Brohmin, who drank them thirstily.
She turned and shot Jakob a similarly withering look. “And you. You should rest as well. I saw how restlessly you slept the other night. It was as if you didn't sleep at all.”
He turned away, not wanting to admit what had happened to him. He’d kept the secret of his most recent vision from the others. There was no purpose in sharing anyway. All it would do was raise questions, and they were questions he didn't have any answers to. Besides, he couldn't help the fact that his dreams had been something more than dreams, especially in the heart of the forest.
Anda guided Jakob toward the trees, away from Brohmin and Salindra. With her hand on his arm, the now familiar waves of relaxation washed through him. Jakob shivered, thinking back to his vision, thinking back to what happened when Aimielen had one of the daneamiin touch her arm. She had a similar wave of relaxation. Jakob imagined it almost as if he had been there, as if the dreams had been real.
“She’s right,” Anda said. “You have been troubled since your rest.”
Jakob debated how much to tell her. Would she have any answers? The gentle, encouraging look on her face convinced him to share. “Troubled. It's more than that. I dreamed the night we were in the heart of the forest.”
Anda laughed softly. The musical quality of her voice reminded him of the gods from his vision. As she stood next to him, he watched the energy around her swirl toward him, touching his. He didn't need her physical contact for him to feel the relaxation. Worry about what was happening to him, about the changes that were taking place, began to dissipate. There was nothing he could do about that worry anyway.
“Everyone dreams,” Anda said.
“Not like me. Lately, my dreams are like visions. They’re so real! The last one…” He couldn't tell her about having a vision of the gods thinking to abandon the daneamiin. How would that affect her? “It felt as if I were living it.”
Anda met his gaze. She had such exotic eyes, and Jakob lost himself as he looked into them, feeling a different sensation than the relaxation he often felt from her. “There are some who can see along the fibers.”
He’d heard about those who could see the fibers before, from daneamiin like Anda, and Alyta, who Brohmin said could read the fibers but didn’t know what it really meant. Had Novan referred to it the same way? “You once told me you could, but not as well as others. I don’t know what that means.”
“It is a term we use to describe time,” Anda began. She plucked a few fallen leaves from the ground and began pulling their stems free. Wh
en she had nearly a dozen clutched in her hand, she held them splayed out in front of her. “The fibers are like a rope, with many strands woven together. There are many possible futures, but there is one past. Some can see along the past, and some—”
“Can see the future?” Jakob asked.
Anda nodded. “Those who are powerful at stepping along the fibers can see into the future. Some can catch glimpses. Little more than shadows, almost as if dreams, or memories, of what could be. My people have limited ability in looking to the future. Some can look to the past. There are some who are so strong they can travel backward, along the fibers, and use that connection to gain understanding.”
“That's what happened in the Cala maah, isn't it? I was forced backward along the fibers.”
Anda smiled. “In the house of the Cala maah, you are able to step backward to see your ancestors.”
“But I saw myself as a god.”
And it wasn't the first time he'd seen himself as one of the gods. The first had happened when he'd first been in the Great Forest, and again in the mountains of the north when he defeated the groeliin, and even the last time, when he dreamed he was Aimielen.
“There are many who can claim a connection to the gods,” Anda said. “There was a time when the damahne and the people of man mingled more closely. It was not uncommon for such things.”
“You've seen this?”
“My people are a result of that mingling.”
Jakob's mind flashed back, thinking of what he had seen. Was that what he had glimpsed during his vision? “Not all were pleased with that, were they?” Jakob looked up at Anda and saw something—a question or was it something else, worry?—written on her face.
“No, not all were pleased with the mingling or the ultimate results. That is the reason we moved to the east.” Again, he saw what could be pain cross her face.
Anda watched him for a moment while weaving the stems together. As she did, she formed something almost ropelike that she handed to Jakob. “The fibers. We all follow the path. We all move forward into many possible futures that are woven together.”
Jakob took it, staring at the twisted stems. “And you said some people can travel backward.” Was that what had happened to him? Could he really have gone back along the fibers?
It made as much sense as anything else that had happened to him. More than that, it might actually explain what had happened to him.
Anda smiled. “I see from your face that you know this already.”
“I… I had a vision the other night. I saw myself as Aimielen. She feared for her children and her grandchildren. She called your people Den’eamiin.” He didn’t speak in the ancient language as fluidly as others but tried to pull it from his vision.
Anna nodded slowly, her exotic eyes changing, widening into what looked like worry. “If you are able to trace your fibers back to Aimielen, you should be proud. She was a great damahne. My people still exalt her.”
“Who was she?”
He'd had visions before in which he’d heard the name. In the very first, he'd dreamed as Shoren, thinking of what it had been like when he had sat in the forest, calling for the first Conclave. He remembered thinking about another goddess, one named Marli, but words came back clearly to him: Aimielen was beautiful too.
Why was he having these visions?
Could it be as simple as him walking back along the fibers? Could that be all there was to it? If so, what did it mean that he was a god in his dreams? If Anda claimed he could walk back along the fibers of his ancestors, and that the Cala maah took him back along the fibers of his ancestors, did that mean he really was descended from gods?
And then what of the vision he had while in the Cala maah, having visions of daneamiin?
Could he be what Brohmin hoped? Could he be this nemah? Was that why he had the abilities he seemed to possess?
It was all too much for him to understand.
“Help me understand, Anda. Something is happening to me.”
She rested her hand on his arm and let it slip down until she held his hand. She squeezed. This time, the relaxation that came from her was different from before. There was nothing of her ahmaean pressing upon him. This was the simple comfort of her touch. “You should not fear the past, Jakob Nialsen. There's nothing you can change about it. All we can do is hope to influence the future.”
“Then why am I having these visions?”
“I do not know. My people don't have dreams of our ancestors except when we visit the Cala maah. That is our gift, a chance to look back, to know where we have come from so that we will understand where we must go. Others have different gifts.”
They stood in silence for a while, and the sounds of the forest surged around them. They were soft and gentle, a healing sort of sense. He turned and saw Brohmin fast asleep on the ground. Salindra sat next to him, watching over him, a worried look on her face.
He wasn't the only one who had changed since visiting the Cala maah. Salindra had changed as well, the confident Mage having returned. Jakob was pleased to see that, just as he was pleased to see the energy, the ahmaean swirling around her. She used it as she ministered to Brohmin, though Jakob had a sense that she didn't quite know what it was she did. As far as he knew, Salindra couldn't even see the energy.
Why was it that he could?
“You said the gods—the damahne—mingled with the people of man,” Jakob said. He had a hard time thinking them anything other than gods, though he had heard from both Brohmin and Anda that wasn't the case. And yet… If he were truly descended from them, that would mean he was a child of the gods. He wasn't ready to believe that either. Perhaps it would be easier to believe them some other type of being. “You said that daneamiin are the result of that mingling.”
He looked over to Anda, and she nodded slowly.
“Were there any other minglings?”
“I do not know all of the histories of the damahne,” Anna began. That is not my strength. I have glimpsed my ancestors and can trace them back to the damahne, but I have not been able to glimpse anything beyond that,” Anda said.
“But there's something you know,” Jakob said.
“There is something.”
“What is it?”
Anda took a deep breath. She motioned to the trees, to the flowers near her feet, even to Jakob. “All who can reach the ahmaean, all who can touch the energy that surrounds us, are descended from the damahne.”
“All?”
Anda nodded again, her hands running atop the grass. As she did, the ahmaean around her shifted, drawn toward her.
Jakob looked back at Salindra. If what Anda said was true, and Jakob had no reason to believe that it wasn't, then it meant that even the Magi were descended from the gods.
He hadn’t thought he was gaining the abilities of the Magi, but what if he was?
Yet what he could do seemed different from the abilities of the Magi.
What other explanation was there?
Darkness had fallen in full, but Jakob still couldn't sleep. He didn’t know if it was because he had just eaten, or because his anxious mind was still racing. Regardless of the reason, he continued to lay there, unable to slow the thoughts racing through his mind.
On the other side of the clearing, he could see Brohmin still sleeping. He breathed heavily and remained motionless as he slept. Jakob worried about the man, wondering if he'd been pushing himself too hard. Salindra still sat next to him, awake. She had been unwilling to move, unwilling to leave him. He’d appeared weaker tonight, the exertion of the last few days taking its toll on him.
Anda rested near Jakob. She lay on her side, her legs pulled up, her eyes closed. She looked youthful, the effect of the glamour faded while she slept, and Jakob wondered how old she might be. Aruhn had seemed youthful as well, but Jakob had the sense that he was very old, at least within the spectrum of age of the daneamiin.
Unwilling to lie there any longer, Jakob stood and went to Salindra, crouching nex
t to her. She looked up at him, the concern she felt for Brohmin playing on her face. “He sleeps so long,” she said.
“He was very injured,” Jakob said.
Salindra nodded. “I did what I could, my… abilities… are different since…” She shook her head. “It doesn't matter. All that matters is that they are different. Had it been a year ago, I might have been different. I might have been able to help him more easily.”
Jakob watched Brohmin as he slept, a peaceful expression on his face. He seemed less hearty than he had been. He understood Salindra's worry, the fear that Brohmin would fail, and that he would leave them. Jakob wasn't sure what they would do then.
They needed Brohmin. Not only his expertise and the knowledge he possessed but the confidence and the belief that he knew what they should do, that everything would turn out as needed.
Only… There was no question that Brohmin was failing. How much longer would he have? How much longer before he fell, unable to awaken again?
“He's recovered before,” Jakob said.
“Before,” Salindra agreed, nodding. “But he is old. Older than I would have believed possible even a month ago. Twice, he has been called Brohmin Ulruuy. It’s a name I recognized. The name of a man who lived long ago.” She sighed, her gaze hanging on Brohmin. “But there is no other explanation as to why they would call him by that name.”
“Who was this man?” Jakob asked.
Salindra sighed. “There was a tradition the Magi once attempted to follow, one that allowed us to influence events in ways that we were not willing to do so directly. They would choose a man, one who was deemed capable of bringing together the people, a man chosen in time of great uncertainty.” She smiled, looking down at Brohmin and shaking her head.
“The Uniter,” Jakob said. “He told us about the practice that night in camp. Of the Conclave choosing the first Uniter, Aalleyn Tompen. He said the Conclave created the mahne, and founded the Urmahne.” Truth be told, Novan had told him about the Uniter as well, but then, both men were part of the Conclave.
Tower of the Gods (The Lost Prophecy Book 3) Page 17