Song Of Mornius

by Diane E Steinbach

  “There,” said Mens beside her. “Erebos has liquified the connective tissue under his skin. It should slide right off now, with a few cuts and pulls.”

  Felrina strained to turn, to shut her eyes and not see the clerics raising her father’s head or the grim-faced First pouring the hazel-thorn down his throat.

  “Erebos no longer trusts you, Felrina,” Mens said. “He’s observing you now. Your turn is next if you dare to look away.”

  She had no choice, for invisible shackles held her fast. In silence, she watched the dragon shadow transform into a tar-like mass, a tendril of it lifting from the floor to touch the balls of Nithra’s feet.

  Her father cried out, the skin of his heels stretching from his bones while Erebos tugged. Nithra thrashed upon the altar, his mouth gaping as all along the length of his body his skin sprang taut, creeping relentlessly toward his feet. By degrees, the cut yawned open at the back of his head, his patches of short-cropped hair sliding toward his eyes and down along his neck, baring the bloody dome of his skull.

  Felrina sobbed. From what seemed like far away, she heard Mens’s demented chuckle. “It’s fascinating, really,” he said. “In much the same way, our god consumes the stars.”

  Her cries catching in her throat, Felrina stared while Nithra’s hairline crept over his nose. Repeatedly he screamed, the outline of his teeth visible through the skin that had covered his forehead.

  “I’ve supervised this before,” Mens was saying. “Over the span of a few days, Erebos strips the bones. He creates a membrane first, protecting the internal organs while the rest of the body is digested. He was absorbing five of our captives yesterday when Nithra came barging in. By that time there was nothing left, yet the prisoners were still breathing, and your father saw it. He didn’t take it well.”

  Felrina sank to her knees and retched. She remembered her father as he used to be when she was little, his happy grin as he swept her up and swung her around. She was his one child, his single remaining joy after her mother’s death, and she had loved him, trailing like a puppy behind him over the piece of land he worked.

  Now he lay writhing, his heels pressed to the stone. A crossing of veins and muscle had replaced his face, his lipless mouth stretched in an unending wail. Clambering upright, Felrina threw herself at Mens. “Kill him!” she screamed. “Finish it!”

  He pushed her back. “I wish I could,” he said with feigned sadness. “But this is all he’s good for now. Do you want him to go to waste? Don’t you want his death to count?”

  Gasping, she focused on the altar. She had no choice but to fix her gaze forward, and yet her merciful mind spiraled, taking her back to her days of romping by the river or in its current up to her knees. How many times had she searched the slimy reeds for leapers, with Terrek splashing nearby and Camron, his book in hand, spectating from the bank? Her father was there, too, chopping the wood the elves had brought, keeping watch on her from the cabin as he always did.

  A scream jerked her to the present. Nithra’s spine was twisted, his body glistening like a silk bug ripped prematurely from its cocoon. A black-haired tendril of scalp still clung to one bloody toe, stretching thin as Erebos devoured it.

  Mens bent forward eagerly as he surveyed the ritual, his eyes aglitter and his fingers clawed. “Now!” he whispered.

  Felrina bowed her head. She wanted it to end. Trembling, she watched Erebos’s shadow shape spreading itself over her father once more, the warder’s oily threads working their way through his muscles and bones.

  Convulsing, Nithra screamed.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  FELRINA ROUSED TO find her pillow was wet, her eyelids sore from crying. Across from her bed sat Mens, his bloodstone staff between his knees.

  “Not fair, my dear,” he drawled. “You weren’t supposed to faint.”

  Groaning, she gripped her stomach. “How could you do that to me after all I have done? Why did Erebos turn on me?”

  “Shh,” Mens hissed. “Our god can only tolerate so much, Felrina. You are his eyes and ears, remember? You wanted Nithra to escape. You even encouraged it! Erebos heard you, and so did I.”

  “Let him hear this!” Lifting her head, she glared at the ceiling. “You lied to me, Dark Warder! You took my mind and my control from me and you lied!”

  Mens seized her shoulders, shaking her. “Stop it!” He leaned close, his sweaty palm on her brow, pressing her back onto her pillow. “Fool! Do you want to be dead, too? He’d do it, you know. What he did to your father satisfies him more than any other torture we’ve found. Once he’s through with Nithra, we have three others prepared. You could be the fourth if you’re not careful.”

  “He’s not supposed to touch the world, Mens!” She struggled to sit up, and then collapsed, trembling. “I’m going to be sick. Why does my stomach hurt? Why do I hurt, Mens?”

  He tapped her wrists with his staff, rendering them limp and lifeless with a soft word of magic. “Erebos is displeased with your behavior,” he said. “Now, if you don’t accept your punishment, he’ll allow me to do much worse.” He slid his arm up within the generous sleeve of her robe. “I could, you know.” Savagely, he twisted her nipple. “Erebos would enjoy it, too.” He paused for effect, grinding his knuckles against her breast. “I had no idea you were a virgin.”

  “Bastard!” The contents of her stomach filled her mouth, and with an effort, she choked it down. “You took me!”

  Mens grinned. “Indeed, I did. Several times.” Sitting back, he separated and paralyzed her legs. “Just like that. This is the old magic, Priestess. If you had the courage to learn the bloodstones, you’d have this power, too.”

  Felrina flinched from his touch. “I don’t want it,” she snarled. “It’s made you a monster!” Sobbing, she tossed her head. “I can’t believe I listened to you. I talked my father into following Erebos for you, abandoned the man I loved and my home for you! Erebos has taken everyone now, and I helped him!”

  “We’ve never beheld our god as he truly is,” Mens said sternly. “On this world, his power is limited, so he needs us. Even the old magic is stronger if you have the courage to use it. Which you don’t. You have never—”

  “I don’t want to! Look at what it’s done to you! You were so kind to me! I left everything. I gave up my life for your cursed lies!”

  Closing her eyes, Felrina buried her head in the pillow, her stomach clenching at the sudden chill air on her skin as he folded back her robe, then pulled her arms from its sleeves.

  “There now,” Mens whispered. She gagged, feeling his fingers between her legs. “So much better.”

  Felrina struggled to think without Erebos hearing her. The warder’s mind was feeding on her now, on her humiliation and anguish. There was no way she could keep it from him.

  She ground her teeth as Mens bent her knees, his arm raising her hips while he tore her robe from under her and tossed it to the floor. She would find a way.

  Chapter 34

  AVALAR STARED AT the massive tree with its pink-and-silver trunk. The proud sentinel’s magic was potent on her skin, its consciousness reaching across the Eris village to connect with her. Behind its purple mantle of blanket-sized leaves, she made contact, her mind caressing the tree’s knotted heart. Gently the Nada borrowed her strength and granted her a boon in return, a glimpse of its growth from seedling to sapling as it stretched its branches to the sun. In time its roots had formed burrows in the ground, providing shelter to the elves who kept it fed, the strong young tree grown mighty with power.

  She recalled Kildoren’s story as they had entered the little town, of how bloodstones embedded deep in the ground had decided the location of their new temple, the power of the buried gems stimulating the tree to grow to a massive size. In their youth, the Eris elders had raised the Nada to replace the one Holram’s arrival had destroyed. After eight cycles they were able to relocate their hearths to the lodges formed by the tree, adding exterior homes within and below the shelter of its erupted
roots. Now, hundreds of cycles later, their dwellings endured, the oldest tucked within the Nada’s iron core. As the world’s blood leeched magic from the Nada’s rings and bark to heat the ground and warm the homes, so did the roots drink hungrily from the nourishing soil the bloodstones provided.

  They benefit each other, Avalar thought. It is different for me. The stones only take my magic. I feel it even now.

  Frowning, she watched the sun set beyond the mountains and the elves retire into their homes. Since her arrival with Terrek’s remaining men, the village had swarmed with activity, with many of the elves riding off to Tierdon on their shan to lend their aid to the former dachs. Her scowl had deepened whenever she saw Gaelin among them, his perplexity obvious in his soft brown eyes during the moments when Holram possessed him.

  Raising her head, she scoured the camp for her leader. Does Terrek see Gaelin’s plight? Does he care?

  She hissed as pain clenched her belly. Whatever Gaelin had done with her magic during the battle had depleted her. Allastor Mens had ripped at her guts in his attempt to extract her magic, but her flesh had fought back, her power surging to renew itself. This draining by a friend to heal the dachs had caught her unaware. Without the help of her blood heated in rage or battle, it would take time for her tissues to compensate.

  “Avalar?”

  Gaelin halted in front of her, his skin glowing in the gathering dusk. “Which one are you?” she asked. “The human or the god? Your countenance bespeaks Gaelin. And the way you hold your body.”

  Unflinching, he peered back. So often before, his eyes had shied away from any direct stare. She had sensed shame in him, a terrible guilt he longed to hide. Yet now his regard was steady and bright—filled with worry for her. “Not a god,” he said. “Avalar, it’s me.”

  “What of Holram?” Doubtfully, she gazed into his eyes. “Are you both?”

  “The elves told Terrek the transition is complete, or as much as it can be for a human,” he said. “But I’m not so sure. Look!” He lifted his arm. “I did that. Me! If he’s a part of me, why don’t I feel him?”

  Avalar cocked her head. “Mayhap he has released you?”

  “I don’t think so,” Gaelin said. “Through me, he can walk and speak his mind. He won’t give that up. Not when he is so close. I think he’s letting me rest. He must realize his magic weakens me.”

  Avalar studied the lodges around her, the dwellings built within the trunks of the many smaller trees that had sprouted from the roots of their looming parent. “It is so easy for ones of power to wave their hands and say who goes where and does what,” she muttered.

  He clasped her wrist. “I feel things now,” he said. “You’re in pain because of me. Holram didn’t plan to take your magic as he did. But the dachs had to be restored, and you were there.”

  She sank to her haunches beside him. All day she had tolerated the looks from the elves, their disapproval of her proximity to the humans. If they see my distress, she thought, there is naught I can do, for I am weary. She looked down into Gaelin’s troubled face. “Holram used me?” she asked.

  “Listen,” said Gaelin. “Your presence made it possible to revive those people. I didn’t have that before. The warder could heal Terrek’s men, but never the dachs.”

  “We are a pair, are we not?” she murmured wryly. “Freedom. It is an elusive thing.”

  He sighed. “You need to know why you’re hurting. It’s my fault. When Terrek fell beneath the dachs’ swords, I gave up. I couldn’t move, but at the same time, I felt this power. All I had to do was let it take me. I was still afraid, but I surrendered to it. I had no choice. Terrek needed me!”

  “You did well,” she reassured him. “You saved your friend when I could not, and Erebos’s dachs. You aided them, too.”

  “No, you did,” he said. “You changed them back. When Holram took me over, I lost control, freeing him to touch the world. He connected with you, Avalar. Only your power, combined with his, could so unravel the warped old magic.”

  She drew a quick breath and he grimaced. “It took the strength of giants to undo the harm,” he told her. “Warped water made the dachs, and you said it yourself: magic of flesh is stronger.”

  Biting her lip, Avalar nodded.

  “I’m sorry,” he added.

  “No.” She scrambled to her feet. “There is no call for regret. Those humans are free. My pain is naught by comparison. It is but an annoyance, and it will pass. But the good that results from my discomfort shall endure.”

  Gaelin smiled.

  Avalar gestured toward the tree. “I dare not venture there. That warren is magic-fed. It holds bloodstones beneath it. I sense its roots growing tight around them. Its sap weaves a mighty spell.”

  “The inside of the tree is hollow and warm,” he said. “Terrek is waiting for me to bring you. The leader of the Eris has concerns, and Terrek won’t discuss them without you.”

  Avalar snarled. “Kildoren wants me to stay here. He will wish to see me home—have one of his elves march me eastward to Luen or Foss Bay and put me on one of their Skimmers. No. This is my life. He will not have his way!”

  “Avalar!” Gaelin trotted at her hip as she approached the tree. “I’ll have them come out to you instead! That way you won’t have to—”

  “Oh, but I do,” she cut him off. “I am Grevelin’s daughter! My uncle Kurg says Mistaveres are always the first forward and the very last to fall!” She ducked, charging through the rounded doorway, her skin prickling as the tree’s inner light replaced the dusk, the slant of rich red wood above her forcing her into a crouch. The air was humid, heated by the breaths of Terrek with his men, along with Kildoren and the elders.

  Her human leader rose as he caught sight of her, his brow smoothing when their gazes met. “Good,” he said. “Come, Giant. It’s a tight crawl for you, I know. But it opens up; I promise. Come. We have much we need to discuss.”

  She dropped to her knees and pushed her shoulders into the cleft, squeezing sideways to make room for Gaelin. She could feel the slight ridges of the tree’s rings tingle under her fingers as she climbed. The wood was bestowing on her its strength.

  She caught its nutty scent, and then she was sliding down, landing on her knees and calloused palms in the basin beyond the gap.

  Terrek sat in front of a recess on a raised formation of roots. The elves reclined with him in the circular hollow, eight on each side of him along the walls. Darkness hovered where the ceiling ended, the lines denoting the tree’s age stretching out of her sight to form a vertical cavity, the largest of many pockets within the Nada’s core. Swaying threads of gossamer descended from the shadows, each holding a lantern over her head. She counted sixteen little lamps, illuminating the upturned faces inspecting her.

  Carefully she stood. “This temple has strong magic,” she warned Terrek. “These elves planted this tree on top of a cache of bloodstones. That is why this place, this whole village, is not frozen like everything else. The stones are the life of this world, and their power gives the elves their tree-lore. As a giant I am naught but magic for the stones to drain. But I fear in time the spell of this wood might put you and your men to sleep.”

  Kildoren’s green eyes glimmered as he shifted on his seat to address Terrek. “The giant speaks truly of our temple,” he said. “Our tree feeds the bloodstones the power they crave, heating the stones to warm our homes for us, which nourishes the Nada as well. You are human and you have no magic. There is no power here to threaten you.”

  “You admit the stones are draining her?” Terrek asked. “She’s been through enough.”

  Kildoren turned, studying her again as he and his kind had done all day. Bristling, Avalar glared back. Just try to send me home, she thought fiercely. I dare you!

  “The world’s blood is mindless,” said Kildoren. “It must feed on power in order to pass it on. As we speak, it savors her strength, yet it will not inflict serious harm. Only when humans warp the magic do these stones b
ecome dangerous. You call our trees ‘warrens,’ but to the elves, they are Nada, a word that means hope. Our tree is a haven. It would never harm a giant, Leader Florne, and neither would the stones.”

  “Enough of this,” Oburne growled from the recess behind Terrek. “I am your third and you need me. With Vyergin gone, you’ll be requiring my strength and my sword. Why would you ask me to stay here?”

  Avalar followed Gaelin to where Oburne and the other humans huddled beneath the low ceiling. She knelt in front of the crevice, positioning herself like a guard next to her leader. She recognized Grenner, the young bowman who wielded his sword left-handed, standing with Silva at Terrek’s back. Behind Gaelin and Roth, and Oburne with the two guards, she spotted three more familiar faces: the surviving wranglers who had tended to the animals.

  “What I want has nothing to do with it,” Terrek said. “These people need our help. The city can shelter them, but it can’t show them how to care for themselves and you can. They need a leader, Lieutenant. You can be that for them. Help them to survive until spring.”

  “Assuming there is one!” Oburne shook his braided hair. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You can’t guarantee any of us will be here in a nineday. So let me stay with you. Let the strength of my blade make a difference in this thing. The elves can aid the humans. You made me third in command. Without Vyergin, you need me!”

  Frowning, Terrek shook his head. “You and Grenner will stay,” he said. “If we fail, and Talenkai survives, I’ll want to die knowing there’s someone behind me to take my place. Perhaps you can find a way to get through to the ones in the Destroyer’s cult. If they refused to serve him, Erebos would starve.”

  Avalar glanced at Gaelin. The staff-wielder sat in the cleft, his forearms wrapped around his knees as he assessed the elves. Across the room, Kildoren returned his gaze with a look of deep affection. Not for the human, Avalar realized. The chieftain’s love was for the warder in Gaelin’s eyes.