by Lara Morgan
Slipping her arms into the coat properly she pushed herself up from the ground and walked past the tents toward the trees at the edge of the clearing. It was time to follow her senses. Alezo was there, sitting on a large rock keeping watch.
‘I need to stretch my legs,’ Veila said. ‘I won’t go far.’
‘In the dark?’ Frowning, he stood, holding out a hand to halt her. ‘Seer, please, I can’t allow you to wander from the camp.’
‘I’ll be fine.’ She looked at the thin arc of the moon above. ‘There is enough light for me to see. I will only go to the small pool where you watered the muthu. It’s not so far.’
‘But far enough.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, you must go back to the fire.’
Veila sighed, then said in a low voice, ‘There are things I must do, Alezo, a ritual. And it must be alone.’ She made her gaze ice cold, knowing the effect she could have when she desired it. ‘You would not stand in the way of the Seer’s responsibilities, would you?’
The Hunter hesitated. The Faithful had been formed to protect against the return of Azoth; it lay at the heart of their code and ruled all that they did. To refuse her would be to break that code.
Alezo looked down at her with deep misgiving. ‘I would not want to do that, Seer,’ he said.
‘Good.’ Veila gave him a small smile. ‘I won’t be long. Don’t worry.’
‘I won’t if Devin goes with you.’
‘I cannot have company, Alezo; what I must do, I do alone. I will call if I have trouble.’
He paused, watching her, then nodded, unhappy, and said, ‘If you are not back within the hour, I will come looking for you.’
‘I’ll be back,’ she said, and moved past him into the shadow of the trees. She knew he did not understand but her senses told her that if there was one of the Four here, he or she would not be revealed to a man armed. This was her task alone.
It was hard going at first. Her eyes, unaccustomed to the dark, could not make out the rocks and jutting roots underfoot and she almost tripped several times before she began to make sense of her surroundings. Luckily, the muthu had trampled many of the lower growing shrubs in their trek from the pool and she was able to negotiate her way better once the trees thinned. She headed downhill, a gentle slope that became gradually steeper until she could see why the men had not left the muthu tethered near the water; it would have been impossible to find a spot to tie them securely.
Her limbs ached and she almost regretted her decision to come as she forced her stiff legs to keep moving. The pool was at the bottom of the hill, half hidden in a thicket of tall trees and undergrowth, and as she went carefully toward it she became aware of a deep stillness about her, and a dampness rising out of the earth. She held on to the trunks of the trees for balance and followed the trail of crushed grass and scrapes of ground until she reached the small hollow. Then she paused. Her breath escaped in small puffs as her scalp suddenly prickled with the same sense of being watched she had felt in the valley earlier in the day. Cautiously she walked toward the circle of dark water. Not a ripple stirred its surface and a pale glimmer of starlight shone on its glass-like finish. She stood at the edge, her whole being contracting with the cold.
At first she thought the shape on the other side of the pool was a stone, but then she felt it; that unmistakable presence of power. He sat in the shadows watching her, two dark eyes gleaming. She could make out no feature but for a massive bulk and those eyes.
She inhaled slowly to calm herself. ‘Which one are you?’ she said.
He said nothing for a long moment and when he spoke his voice was deep and cold, like the pond, like a forest of silence. ‘I was once called Vail,’ he said.
She forced the fear from her tone. ‘You’re alone?’
‘For the moment.’ He smiled, revealing his square, white teeth. ‘The others are close, though.’
Veila swallowed. ‘How close?’
He moved and a small stone bounced away from him and fell into the pond with a splash, ripples moving out from the bank. ‘I did not ask to be awakened,’ he said. ‘The world is changed now. My people are gone.’
‘Much has changed while you slept,’ she said, ‘but some things are once again the same. Your brother, Azoth, has come back. He has the Birthstone.’
Vail did not move. ‘He always wanted more than he was given.’
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘You are one of my sister’s people,’ he said suddenly, an odd note in his voice. Was it amusement or something she should be afraid of? Dislike?
‘What do you mean?’
‘Mind watcher, Void creeper. I feel you from far off,’ he said. ‘A little sliver of her in all of you … but not so much as can harm her.’
Veila’s heart beat faster. Fortuse. She steadied herself. She must get out what she had come for. ‘Azoth,’ she said. ‘He is planning on making slaves of us all. He is bringing a war of serpents and men. You stopped him once before. Can you help us again?’
‘He has the Stone,’ Vail said softly, and there was yearning in his tone, a deep need that made her wary.
‘Yes, he has it,’ she said, ‘but perhaps you can take it back. There are four of you.’
‘Four,’ he echoed, his voice a deep rumble like rocks falling underground. ‘Once we were five.’
‘Can you help us?’ Veila said again. He was silent for a long time and she shivered in the damp cold of the hollow. A mist was starting to rise off the pool, obscuring further her view of him. Then suddenly he moved, stepping from the darkness to the edge of the pond. She tried not to show him her fear. He was no taller than an average man, but the bulk of him was overwhelming; powerful shoulders led to arms thick with muscle, a neck shortened and wide. His hands were large enough to crush her skull. He gazed at her from black eyes set in a face of flat, wide bones. He was the mountains, the stones, the earth come to life. A vague scent of damp grasses and still water came from him.
‘I remember this place,’ he said. ‘The trees were smaller then; the sun shone here once.’
‘Will you help us?’ she said.
‘I cannot say for sure what the others will do,’ he said quietly, ‘but the way is clear. There is only one path we have ever known. We come for the Stone.’
‘And once you have it?’
‘It will be as before,’ Vail said. ‘No ill deed remains unpunished.’
‘And what of us?’ Veila said. ‘If you succeed?’
‘It will be as before,’ he repeated.
She wasn’t sure what he meant. Almost nothing was known of the world before Azoth’s empire. The world when all the gods walked the land together. It was too long ago, the stories lost. But did they have any choice?
‘Will you come to the battle?’ she said.
Vail seemed almost sad as he said, ‘We have no other path.’
Veila nodded. Why did she have the feeling that the fate of the humans was really of little consequence here? They were pawns, caught now between the return of gods who should never have been. She looked at the pond, the mist rising off the water, and when she looked up again he was gone.
Chapter 38
Shaan crouched down behind Asrith’s crest, almost lying along the serpent’s spine so she could feel the warm rush of her blood. It was night and the dry desert wind was still in her face, but not for much longer. The dark shadow of the Black Mountains loomed. Soon they would reach them. Asrith flew fast and high, where the air was so thin sometimes Shaan found it hard to breathe. Dizzy, she lowered her head to the serpent’s hide. Between each flap of wing she glimpsed the light and shadow of the dunes far below, reflecting the starlight. She closed her eyes, lulled by the hum of the serpent’s presence in her blood, the dreamlike darkness of the night. Arak-si, Asrith hissed a whisper in her mind.
She woke suddenly. Dawn was breaking and the Black Mountains were below them, a mass of barren peaks and precipices dropping sharply into deep chasms. She sat up, swaying slightly.
Rest a moment, she whispered to Asrith, concerned the serpent could be tiring.
Must not stop, the serpent replied. Arak-si sleep.
But she could not. They flew on. Time passed slowly. Shaan drank sparingly from the water skin she had brought with her and watched the endless open sky. There were no clouds over the mountains and not a speck of greenery on the rocks. It was as if rain never fell here.
Cursed place, Asrith’s voice sounded in her mind. Never rain here again. All life gone, no more.
No, Shaan thought, the Guides had seen to that. The mountains were the barrier that stopped Azoth and the Four from coming back to the lands of their creation.
She felt a sliver of uneasiness feed from Asrith’s mind into hers. The mountains’ bones encircle all, under the sand and above, the serpent hissed.
She stared down at the barren wasteland of rock and shadow; they had done an effective job. The place made nameless fears crowd her mind and coldness seemed to reach up for her from the shadowed rifts. As Azoth’s descendant she could feel some of that repelling force, although it was not enough to stop her crossing. She wondered what it must be like for him.
They flew all day and night and cleared the last peaks in the early hours before dawn. The oppressive feeling that had been hovering since they’d entered the mountains lifted, and Asrith circled down to rest near a narrow stream. After the long flight Shaan found it difficult to walk, her body aching as she uncoiled and shuffled to the stream. The water was nearly deep enough to cover her, so she stripped off and waded into the centre, splashing herself and shivering with cold. A few scraggly trees grew on the opposite bank and birds were chortling among the branches as the sun rose higher, unperturbed by the presence of the serpent.
Shaan crouched on the sandy bottom and plunged her head under the water, scrubbing at her scalp, then stood up and combed her hair back with her fingers and waded back to the bank. Standing naked in the first rays of the rising sun, she closed her eyes. Balkis was in her thoughts; she pictured his handsome face, remembering the feel of his hands on her skin, the last look she had had of him as he walked away. Then she saw again the vision Sabut had shown her of his death if she did not do as he asked.
She opened her eyes and felt the pendant hanging cool and heavy around her neck. She fingered it, tracing the smooth curves of the blood pearls. It almost seemed a talisman. As long as she wore it she could remember why she was doing this. As long as she wore it he would stay alive.
She must persuade Azoth to take the Stone to battle, make sure the Four could reach it so they could win, but not let the Fallen One be hurt. Why? She could not understand it. Why must he live after all he had done, or would do? But Sabut would not answer; he’d only shown her the death of those she loved if she did not protect him. It was the Stone, always the Stone the cause of this. It allowed them the power. Was the Prophet right? If it was broken would it lead to salvation?
Time to go, Asrith hissed in her mind.
Without answering, Shaan reached for her clothes and slipped them back on, then forced some pan bread and a handful of dried fevi berries down her throat before climbing onto Asrith’s back again. The serpent sprang into the air and they flew on toward the east.
For another day and a night they travelled fast over the plains, and on the morning of the third day they reached the grasslands. The stagnant ponds and tall, thick grasses buzzed with insects under a heavily clouded sky, and on the horizon the dark belt of the jungle was like a range of mountains.
Memories returned of flying over the same lands with Azoth: the burn on her skin, the damp sweating heat and the look in his eyes as he had stared out at the Wild Lands. She had truly seen who he was then — what he was — a god, inhuman. She was filled with misgivings. Was she strong enough? Could she manipulate a god and not lose herself, or would he find a way into her waking heart as he had in her dreams?
The end of the grasslands approached and she pushed aside her fears, asking Asrith to land. For the last few hours she had been feeling the serpent’s trepidation at being so close to her maker. Tendrils of memory had begun to rise in her blood and Shaan wanted her to turn back before she was lost to it.
You must leave me here, Shaan said to her as the serpent touched down on the soft earth.
Arak-si is sure? Asrith looked at her from one green eye as she climbed down with her pack. I could fly further, to the river.
No. Shaan shook her head. This is my risk to take, not yours. Besides I have a job for you — if you will do it.
Asrith’s crest glowed a dark purple blue. Ask.
Will you go back to Ivar and my friend Tuon? They are with the Guardian in the Goran Ranges. I need you to tell them the Four will come to the battle but that they must not go to it. I need you to take them all away, to the desert. They need to hide until all of this is done.
Asrith regarded her. To the deadlands?
Yes. To the well of the Baal — they will be safe there. She put a hand on the serpent’s hide and pictured the desert, then sent a special note to Tuon into her mind as well. Fly well.
Asrith rose from her haunches, her hide rasping. It will be done.
Shaan stood back under the dripping leaves of an oonunga tree and watched as Asrith flung herself up into the air and away.
Fly the safe paths, Arak-si, Asrith called as she disappeared into the cloud.
Once she was gone, Shaan felt suddenly bereft. She stood for a moment under the shelter of the spreading branches of the fruit tree. It was large and old, growing by itself near the edge of the grass. Not more than ten strides away the jungle started, rising up from the damp grass as if held back by an invisible barrier. She could see some way in from where she stood but it soon became nothing more than a dim collection of tree trunks, creepers and undergrowth. It would be hard going to get to the river, but after a while, she knew, as she got closer to the ancient city, there would be less undergrowth, taller trees. The jungle was older there, full of secrets. Now full of an army. She wondered if Azoth knew she was here.
She gazed up at the cloud-covered sky, enjoying her last moments of freedom. She could run now. She could just turn and run away through the grasslands, hide somewhere. But for what? She sighed and, hoisting her pack on her shoulders, strode through the grass and entered the trees.
***
Alterin stood on the stone balcony, staring down at the city and ignoring the pouring rain. She wasn’t sure how long she had been out there — hours at least, or perhaps it was days. Nothing felt certain anymore. From behind her came the slow, steady breathing of Jared. He followed her everywhere, her guard, her shadow, Azoth’s favourite pet. She could hardly bear to look at him anymore.
She thought of the woman who had been Seer before her, passed on years ago. Magdi, help me now! She was beginning to find it hard to separate the dreaming ways from reality, so often was Azoth pushing her into the Void. The blazing fury of Fortuse’s eyes staring at her still seemed to linger in the air before her face, as if the god’s image was burned into her retina. The Four were almost all together now and Azoth’s temper had begun to fray. He pushed ever harder to ready his army for war. Now he had humans in his ranks, fighting because they must. A threat to loved ones was a powerful motivator.
Soft footfalls sounded on the stone, stopping at the doorway.
‘Seer.’ The serving girl’s voice was strung with tension. ‘He summons you.’
Alterin half turned so she could see her. She was young, black haired, and looked like one of the Marlu people. He had begun to keep them for his Alhantis’ use. She wondered how long this girl would live; already dark circles were under her eyes, her cheeks thin with unrelenting fear.
‘Tell him I’m coming,’ Alterin answered, then turned back to the city. The heavy cloud cover meant many of the lanterns had been lit and the repaired buildings glittered with yellow light through the rain. She had chosen this highest spot in Azoth’s palace because it was the only place where sh
e could see over the walls to the ancient city and beyond to the jungle, now little more than a shadowed mass of treetops as the rain pelted down. It reminded her of the freedom that still lay beyond Azoth’s reign, that the spirits of the trees were still there.
A heavy footfall sounded on the stone and Jared’s hand curled around her upper arm.
‘Time,’ he rumbled. ‘He waits.’
She looked up at him, her eyes half closed against the rain, and the familiar ache echoed inside. She still saw the clansman he had once been, hidden behind the Alhanti. She searched his expressionless face. Had his tone sounded different? Was he unhappy to take her to Azoth, or had she merely imagined it? Carefully, slowly, she lifted a hand to touch his face. He moved so fast she couldn’t follow it, his fingers fastening around her wrist, halting her hand near his jaw.
‘Time to go,’ he said. His nostrils flared as he breathed quickly, as if controlling anger. The tension in his arm vibrated through her body and for the briefest moment she thought she saw something in his eyes, as if he were struggling within himself not to hurt her, holding himself back.
‘Jared?’ she whispered.
She forgot about the rain as she stared into his eyes, which had suddenly lost some of their darkness. ‘Jared!’ she repeated, and lifted her other hand, but just as swiftly the change was gone. The blackness came again and he caught her wrist with a curl of his lip, pulling her roughly around to the doorway.
‘He is waiting,’ he said, and strode inside, dragging her with him. The echoing shouts and clashes of warriors sounded as they moved along the covered balconies. The Alhanti had brought back some of the surviving villagers from Falmor and were using them in their training. Alterin tried not to hear their screams, sickened by the sound. Her pleas to Azoth to let them go only amused him and made things worse. She had stopped asking after the time he had made her watch as the Alhanti literally pulled one of them apart, the man’s blood spraying across the grey stone. He had threatened to use her own people if she kept on at him, and so now she was silent. She hated to think what those people must think of her, standing at his side dressed in silks, like some favourite pet.