Tales Of Nevaeh: The Trilogy and Backstory of the Epic Sci-Fi Fantasy Series Tales Of Nevaeh: (The 4 Book Bundled Box Set)

by David Wind

  How could I not?

  “No thanks are to be given. We did only what was needed,” Areenna said to the child.

  The girl, instead of speaking, studied her with a growing intensity. Then her eyes, the same pale wheat color as her mother’s, glazed over. She stood like that for several seconds before shaking her head. Then she smiled. “You are different. You have great powers.”

  “And you as well, I sense,” Areenna responded.

  Their conversation ended as the villagers surrounded them. Sirod told them of how Areenna and Mikal had rescued her. When she finished, Sirod bade them to go about their business or return to their homes. Areenna and Mikaal were her guests and to be treated accordingly.

  Then she turned to Neleh. “Where is your brother?”

  “He is working in the cold stores building. He will be home shortly.”

  “Fetch Lemel now.”

  Without a word, the child raced off. “Come,” Sirod said. She started forward, but stopped. “We have no place for your animals.”

  Areenna glanced at Mikaal and he nodded. “They will stay in this area. Is there grain to feed them? I saw yellow cob in the fields. Is there stock here?”

  Sirod nodded. “I will see to it when my son returns.” She turned and limped toward the building. Areenna and Mikaal followed behind.

  Two hours later, while the kraals ate chunks of cob ears, and Gaalrie sat on the roof of the house eating a freesh Sirod had given her, Areenna and Mikaal, finished their first meal at a table since leaving Welkold. In the time before the meal, Areenna and Mikaal had taken turns bathing in heated water before changing into their last unsoiled clothing.

  The house itself was comfortably warm, yet Mikaal had found no evidence of a heating fire anywhere. Nor did they have nightmoss to light the interiors; rather, they used some sort of liquid to burn within wall hanging lanterns. Everything is different here. The people, the way they live, Mikaal pushed to Areenna.

  Yes, but it is good too. They seem happy here.

  “The food, it satisfies?” Sirod asked.

  Mikaal laughed and pointed to his plate, which was as clean as if it had not been touched. “Wonderful,” he said. “Tell me, how do you keep your home so warm? I see no heating fires.”

  Sirod nodded. “When our ancestors came here and built our village, they were able, somehow—exactly how I cannot explain for it has been long forgotten—to open holes within the ground to allow heat and steam to rise and warm our homes. We use it for other purposes as well.”

  “How is the heat directed into the house?”

  Sirod’s son Lemel spoke. “I can explain,” he said. “I am apprenticed to the smithy. We work on the buildings to ensure the heat always works. The weather is the same, at all times, and to keep the chill from within, heat must flow. Each building is above what we call ‘vents’. These vents go into the hollow planks in the house. The heat goes through them. Only in the drying room is heat released freely. The heat comes from deep beneath the ground. It is always there. Do you understand better?”

  Mikaal nodded. Lemel, of all the people he had seen so far, appeared to have no visible mutation, except for his size and eyes. Barely taller than his mother, he showed no physical differences from Mikaal, other than his eyes, which were the same pale color as his mother and sister.

  “What liquid burns in your lanterns? I have never seen such before.”

  “It is the fat of huge freeshes, some as large as this house. We store the fat and when we need it, turn it to liquid for our lanterns.”

  “Thank you for the explanation.” Then to Sirod he said, “You have lived here all your life?”

  “My entire life, yes.”

  “You and the others are not exiles—” Mikaal asked.

  “—Why think you such of us?” she interrupted.

  Her words caught Areenna off guard. Careful, she warned Mikaal.

  She speaks strangely, he told her again. I am not stupid. “I have never heard of any people living in the Frozen Mountains,” he said to Sirod.

  “Why would you? We have been here since the beginning.”

  Areenna leaned forward. “Since the beginning? The beginning of what?”

  Sirod gazed thoughtfully at Areenna before answering. “Of our history. When else could such be? Thousands of years—how many I can say not. The very roots of our history bespeak terrible things done by horrible people. My ancestors fled their lands and homes as their world fell apart. For years they traveled across seas and through many lands before reaching this place.”

  “Why?” Areenna asked after digesting Sirod’s words. “Why come here?”

  In the soft glow of wall lanterns, Sirod turned to Neleh and nodded her head. Neleh took a deep breath before saying, “Our ancestors were chosen to come here.”

  “Why?” Areenna asked again, puzzled by the child’s words.

  “We protect and wait.”

  Areenna shook her head. She glanced at Mikaal, who stared openly at the young girl, his brows furrowed in thought. “Wait for what? Protect whom?”

  Neleh’s eyes roamed Areenna’s face. “We wait for she who comes. We protect the path to the mountain of two crowns.”

  Our mountain, Mikaal shot at her. There is danger in this.

  Perhaps. We will worry when necessary. We need to learn more.

  We do. He turned to Sirod. “How could you possibly stop a large force from going to the mountain?”

  “How matters not, Mikaal,” Sirod said softly. “What matters is the deed.”

  Silence built around the table until Areenna asked, “She?”

  Neleh spoke. “She who comes. She who is the deliverance from the evil consuming all.”

  “But you do not know who she is?”

  Sirod leaned forward. “By name we know her not, by her mark we will know her. I am Woman of the Village, as I have told you. My mother, her mother before her and all their mothers were Woman of the Village. We all carry her mark.” Sirod motioned to Neleh with her six-fingered hand.

  Neleh stood and without any modesty took her top off to expose skin the color of tanned hide and barely formed breasts. She turned to show everyone her back. Centered over her spine, at waist level, was a dark brown and circular birthmark. Within the birthmark were lighter lines forming the shape of a crookedly angled six-pointed star.

  Areenna’s breath caught in her throat. “You both have the same mark?”

  While Neleh drew on her top, Sirod leaned forward and pulled at the opening of her collar. The threads holding it closed opened and she parted the garment to expose the area between her breasts. On the skin was the same circular birthmark.

  What is it? Mikaal questioned.

  This is not possible, she told Mikaal. “What is expected of this woman who carries the mark?” she asked Sirod.

  Sirod reached out and placed her hand on Neleh’s shoulder after the girl sat down. “She is the one who frees us. She is the one who will bring life to our world. She is the one who will rid us of the Dark Ones—she will defeat the Circle of Afzal.”

  Mikaal stiffened. “How do you know of the Circle?”

  Sirod met his challenging gaze. “As I told you, my ancestors were not born of this land; they crossed the sea to escape the Circle while the end came to their world. They were instructed to flee their homeland and come here.”

  Images of the eight sorceresses of the Island rose before Areenna and she knew these people had been part of their plan from the very beginning. “You have been waiting for so many years.” They have been here since the creation of Nevaeh, she told Mikaal.

  Sirod nodded. “It is why we survive.”

  Mikaal, the Eight foresaw this. They knew we would come this way.

  You are she?

  She did not reply to his thought; rather, she stood and walked around the table. When she reached Neleh, she said, “lift my top,” and turned her back to the child.

  Neleh’s hands went to the leather of the tunic and pulled it
upwards. Loud gasps sounded when the skin at the exact center of the small of Areenna’s back showed the identical birthmark the two women carried.

  CHAPTER 26

  The bird-shaped creature of darkness flew in concentric circles, moving northward, slowly and carefully searching for the two. Many days it had traveled without locating them, many nights it had flown and discovered nothing.

  Late on the day before, as it flew over the trail separating the mountain range from the ice fields, it had seen something and dipped lower. Landing on the ice-crusted trail, it had found two discarded leather bags, a few kernels of grain embedded in the ice. The bags carried the scent of the two and their kraals.

  As soon as the creature had continued its search, it sent a message to its Master.

  The next day, having finally reached the curving end of the mountain chain, it followed the high, heavily angled mountainside toward the west. It would continue on, forever if necessary, until it tracked down its prey. It had no thoughts of its own—no desires. It was conscious of nothing other than the command of its Master. Its purpose was the sole reason for its existence: to find the man and woman, and let its Master know where they were.

  And so, the mindless creature, a beast requiring no food, no drink, and only air currents to fly upon, continued its search, while hidden beneath the mountains itself were the two it hunted.

  <><><>

  “You are she,” Sirod whispered after staring at the birthmark. “We have been waiting so long for you.”

  Areenna turned, her tunic falling back into place. From the corner of her eyes, she caught Mikaal watching intently.

  Areenna started to speak when a wave of exhaustion washed over her. She grasped the table for support, willing herself to stay strong and think clearly. But she could not. Shaking her head, she tried to speak but a curtain of dull red rusted mist fell across her eyes and the room and the people in it disappeared.

  Before her stood the speaker of the Eight. Her black face and haunting eyes glowed from beneath the dark cowl about her head. A long-fingered hand pointed at her. For these three millennium past have waited these people. They have lived, suffered, and stayed strong to await you. When you have found what you seek, found what you must, much death and blood will follow. You cannot stop what comes, only deal with it. These people will be your defense as you will be their salvation.

  The Speaker paused to point to Mikaal. As you are hers.

  What is it? What have you sent us to find? Areenna asked.

  The sorceress of the Eight, her black skin aglow, stretched out to touch Areenna. When her fingers reached her chest, there was no sensation of being touched; but, a breath later, something opened within her mind. A warmth grew centered within her head. It bathed her in the feel of the mind touch of her mother. What you cannot expect is what you will find. Fear it not. Listen to what I speak next: the mother is ill and dying, we call the child soon. See to it you transfer the gift of thrice. The powers of the mother the child holds now.

  As quickly as the mist had come, it was gone. Areenna grasped the side of the table, her legs weak, her mind and body filled with the lingering touch of her mother. Sirod and Neleh caught her and eased her onto a chair before Mikaal could get around the table.

  When he reached her and grasped her face between his hands, he saw her eyes had focused, and she was returning to them.

  You saw?

  I did, the Speaker of the Eight. Mikaal affirmed.

  Did you hear her clearly, her words of the seeking?

  She told us what we seek is something we will not expect.

  Areenna shook her head. No, what we cannot expect, not will not. There is a difference.

  “Who was she?” Neleh asked, breaking into their silent conversation.

  Areenna turned to her, her eyes wide. “You saw her?”

  The young girl nodded her head once, her wheat-tinted eyes wide. “Who was she?” she asked again.

  “Who?” Sirod asked, looking from Neleh to Areenna.

  “The Old One. Was she the one of the Island?” Neleh asked.

  At that, all three looked at the child. Areenna spoke first. “What know you of the Island?”

  “That all women of power must go there, they must learn.”

  Areenna turned to Sirod. “How can you go to the Island?”

  Sirod drew her daughter into her arms and as she spoke, stroked Neleh’s hair. “There is a place, far within this valley, forbidden to any but women. When called, we go there. Then we are not there, but another place, an island covered in reddish mist with strange things that once were. So it has been since the beginning.”

  Do you believe? Mikaal pushed his thought to her.

  Without hesitation. Aloud, to Sirod, Areenna said, “We have much to discuss.”

  <><><>

  It was cold, colder than most of the men and women of Tolemac and Fainhall had ever experienced for more than a short time. Roth knew these warriors could handle the cold as long as they did not freeze. Still, when the winds turned into bitter blades lashing whip-like across their skin, it was enough to force most below deck, jammed arm to arm, front to back as they sailed the great ship of the dark forces steadily toward their destination.

  Shifts of ten men worked the deck at all times. Four women worked near them.

  The women had a single responsibility: to make sure the men did not freeze.

  No simple task for the four women who surrounded a hatch, below which, two large ovens roared with fire. They’d built racks above the ovens and upon these racks were layered the cloaks and leathers of the warriors within. While not strong in ability, not like Enaid or Ilsraeth, the women used their combined powers to protect the clothing from the cold. This was the only means of keeping those who worked the deck from freezing. Most men lasted a bare quarter hour in the icy wind before having to change out of stiff and frozen leathers and over-cloaks to put on freshly heated garments.

  In the center of the ship was the small and well-protected wheelhouse. Roth, Timon, Enaid and Ilsraeth stood within, unaffected by the winds racing across the deck. Their aoutems—Irii the golden gorlon and Ilsraeth’s black rantor—lay on the floor by the women’s feet. Timon held the wheel as he had for most of the three days they had been at sea, relieved for short spells by Roth, while Enaid and Ilsraeth gave them as much energy as they could raise with their abilities.

  “The winds are strong. A curse to our people but a blessing to the ship,” Timon said, his hands wrapped in cloth as he fought to hold the wheel steady. The seas had been relatively calm until that morning when they’d reached the colder air. As the day had progressed, the cold had increased proportionately. Ahead of them, small blocks of ice bobbled in the waters, none too big to damage the ship, but some large enough to cause Timon worry.

  Of the four queens, the women of strong power who had fought the Black Witch and the Master’s army, only Enaid and Ilsraeth remained. Layra and Atir had returned to their dominions, where they would help their husbands rebuild the armies they had disbanded twenty years before and await word from the High King.

  “This gray is maddening,” Timon snapped, “I cannot see the coastline clearly.”

  “But we can,” Ilsraeth said.

  “And we will guide you,” finished Enaid.

  “The coast continues in the same angle we have been following. It stretches ahead without obstruction,” Ilsraeth assured her husband.

  “How far to the chasm?” Roth asked. “Can you see such distance?”

  “I can attempt it, but it will drain my strength quickly.” Enaid reached across to Ilsraeth, who took her hand. Their minds joined and their powers melded together. Enaid dropped her hand to Irii, who had stood and was now pressing against her leg. She grasped the short coat around her aoutem’s neck. On her other side, Ilsraeth did the same with her rantor.

  Suddenly, Enaid was above the ship, bodiless yet floating. She moved forward, cautiously, as she regained the feel of being without body. Wh
en she was ready, she raced forward toward the land and the chasm.

  Look, Enaid heard Ilsraeth’s sudden command.

  She turned from the coastline to look ahead. The instant she did, she saw one of the large ships. Only one.

  I sense no Master.

  Nor I. Where did the others go? Her strength ebbed as she spoke. She had to draw back. To stay would be too dangerous to her and to Ilsraeth.

  Returned to her body, Enaid shook herself to clear her vision.

  “The chasm is a half day ahead, but only one ship is there. The Master has gone ahead with his troops. He has left perhaps a hundred behind.”

  “Damn,” Roth snapped. “We will bypass the ship. We cannot afford the time to destroy them. We must get to the mountain.”

  Roth’s words went unheard as a wash of pale light swept across Enaid’s eyes. Following that, she saw the ship they were on change course and go to the coast where two people stood waiting.

  “Master Timon,” she called softly, but all heard it. “You must go to the coastline, here, and quickly. Three people await us.”

  “Here, now?” he asked incredulously.

  “Here,” Enaid answered. “It needs be done now.”

  <><><>

  “I must speak with Sirod alone. Then we can all talk. Can you go with Mikaal to check on the kraals? Areenna asked Neleh.

  Neleh nodded, but her eyes never left Areenna’s face. “If that is your need of me,” she whispered. She grasped Mikaal’s hand and led him out. When the door closed, Areenna turned to Sirod.

  “Does Neleh know of your illness?”

  Sirod cocked her head to the side, which was her habit when caught off-guard. “I am not aware of such. She is a strong one. She may know.”

  “Do you know the cause of this?”