'Meanwhile, Dregan had produced a small ball of blue light in front of him. He rolled and caressed it, as it levitated between his hands, tiny glimmers of blackness spotted the surface of the globe.’ The Intoli shifted almost imperceptibly, but it was enough encouragement to let Aviti go on with her tale.
‘Instead of pulling in more energy to make his creation grow, he thrust his arms out before himself and threw it from him. The orb of light, no bigger than his fist, shot across the gap between the ships in the time it took me to draw a breath, and the azure ball smashed into the mast of that ship and threw electric immolation across the lone sail and down onto the slavers.' Aviti shivered as she remembered the cries.
'At the opposite side of the half-wrecked ship, Wist continued to rage, but now his arrows were finding their mark. I ran to his side, away from the spectacle of Dregan's deadly power. There I realised that, not only were Wist's arrows hitting the ship, but like Dregan's magic spheres, the arrows were bursting into flames. Unlike the mage's blue flames - dark, red flames sprouted on the second ship. After a moment the fire was spreading like a plague across the deck.'
'Do you know what has become of him? Aviti asked in a rush. 'The man who was taken with me?' Sevika said nothing, her expression as unreadable as the day Aviti had met the Intoli.
Realising that she would not get an answer, she gulped and then continued. 'I shouted to Wist over the screams of agony. I grabbed his shoulder, sending his arrow skyward and wide of its mark. He spun around, his face a twisted bitter mask. For a second, I thought that he would strike me.'
'But Nikka shouted, drawing us to the front, so I spun around, away from Wist and the ship that was now rife with crimson fire; away too from the other pursuing ship that was swathed in a glory of sapphire. There was the third ship - the first that Tyla had spotted. Without our rear mast, they could not avoid a collision. I looked to Dregan, but he continued to pour balls of liquid death onto his target. It was down to me. I would have to open myself to the magic.' And the sweet taste of ecstasy. 'I even asked my mother and father to help me.' To help me release it.
'So I moved past them all, my friends, the men and women who were the crew of our ship, still trying to save our doomed vessel, to stand at the front. The last of the slavers' ships loomed in front of me. It had swung around to try and force us away from the shoreline, but with the destruction of the rear part of our deck, there was no way we could alter our course. We were going to collide.'
'The smell of salt and pitch and oil filled my senses, but I could not register any of it.' The magic had pressed on her then; the urge, the need for the sweet bliss of release.
'A hail of arrows, shrapnel and abuse were launched towards me,' she continued, 'all of which fell short, but the intention was clear. Slavers they might have been, but they were no longer interested in our capture.
'So I opened myself to it.' And in it had poured. The pain, the anguish, the horror was there, but they were a cold reflection; an echo of an echo. But that was blown away like sand across the desert. The glorious euphoria of the magic took her and she let it devour her, as she had let the water of the Corb sweep her away a lifetime ago.
'Then something impinged on my senses; a darkening of my joy. Like smoke creeping through the gaps in a burning house, it bled into me. Wist was beside me; like an impurity in my thoughts. It leaked from him and into me. My focus broke and the magic withdrew as if it had been snatched from me. Weakness pulled me down to the wet deck of the ship as I paid the price for holding the magic for even such a short space of time. So I watched as Wist began to launch more arrows. This time they caught fire before they had reached their target, and as they landed, they exploded, breaking massive chunks out of the doomed ship.'
'Wist screamed and yelled at Tilden as he launched volley after volley. We all stood helpless and watched that terrible spectacle. I noticed then that the Wist's bow no longer had a string, but even that did not stop him. Neither did the lack of arrows to fire. He flicked back his hand in the familiar motion and loosed a vermilion bolt. But this red was shot-through with black, just like Dregan's. As his line of missiles landed, the last of the slavers' ships broke along its width.'
'As the ship fractured, the bow in Wist's hands burst apart, but even that had no effect on him. I screamed his name without hope of reaching him. Each blast from his hand served to increase his need to send a further salvo. Fire burst from him in all directions, setting fire to wood, pitch, flesh; even metal succumbed to the heat. I collapsed onto the ship then. I was the only one who was close enough to reach him, but my body failed me. Through the intense light and heat, I sensed, more than saw, a figure career through the fire-storm. Nikka. Like an avalanche, he rolled toward Wist. He passed straight through fire, which should have transformed him to ash. Nikka was still two steps from Wist when fire like the unstoppable fury of a volcano burst from Wist and spewed into the night.'
'It erupted into the night and burned its way down through the boat. It broke the integrity of the boat as it smashed its way through as if in a desperate bid to find sanctuary.'
'Then the light was extinguished and the ship exploded beneath me, stealing everything I had ever known. I was thrown into the air. Hopelessly lost, I had no chance to try and grab anything to aid me, so I flailed as I soared through the air.'
'I had only a second to see the moon in the surface of the sea before I fell through it.'
Aviti swallowed tears as her tale came to an end. They were slow, cautious tears. She looked through them at the Intoli.
The Intoli blinked twice, then stood and walked away.
15 - Sacred Ground
The rocks slid beneath Nikka's feet as he made his way up the first in another line of hills. These ones ended at the foot of a mountain. The twin-peaked mountain was no bigger than the one he had left behind on Tapasya; the one he had lived on; the one he had been held prisoner under. And there was little resemblance between this mountain and the Rathou, but in a land shaped by rain and wind, rather than the harsh sun of the desert, could he expect anything familiar?
A head appeared over the brow of the hill followed by a shout. Then Haumea, the Giantess moved on skipping over the fractured terrain. He slipped again. The slick stones under his feet made for slow progress. So she stopped once more and called for him, urging him on.
'Yes, I am coming,' Nikka shouted back to Haumea. The Giant turned and scampered away. The deformity of the Giant did not hinder her in any way. If anything, she was already so aware of her balance that she transitioned seamlessly from one terrain to another. Her habitual routine of checking her footing came into its own now. Nikka cursed and pushed himself up the hill.
When he reached the top, Haumea was there. She scanned the surrounding land. The sky was darker now and not just because of the approaching night, nor the Ghria Duh which dominated the sky.
The wind, Nikka's only companion for all his years on the Rathou, was not his friend here. The clouds raced by, driven by the biting northerly wind. When the clouds passed beneath the Sun, Nikka felt the weight of his years bearing down upon him. He paused for breath and felt the first drops of rain hit his cheeks. He looked back hoping to see the eastern horizon, but mist rolled in spoiling his view. It devoured the trees, and robbed Nikka of a last glimpse of the forest.
Amongst the gloom, Nikka spotted a light patch. It resembled a huge maw, like an inversion of the cave into which Wist, Tyla and the rest of the Giants had gone.
'Come Cerni, we must be away,' said Haumea. 'The clouds bring rain and there is no shelter to be had in this land.
Nikka nodded, but held up his hand. 'You do know which way our path lies?'
The Giantess shrugged. 'I spoke to … I spoke to the Glaine, he told me to follow the line of the hills. We are too far from the road that we could have taken from Creidas. I am far from the lands I know, but have no fear. I will take us there.
Nikka managed a chuckle. 'It is some time since I feared being lost.'
Haumea moved from one foot to another. The Cerni started to walk and he wiped the rain from his brow. 'Do you miss your homeland?'
Haumea shook her head. 'No more than any other Giant who fights in this war.'
The footing on the other side of the mountain was even worse. The rain, which continued to fall as they walked, loosened the soil beneath them.
'I wish that it could be the way it was before,' said Haumea as she used her hand to touch the ground.
Nikka laughed once more, 'In that I envy you Haumea. I cannot recall a time in my life that I would wish to return to.' At a look from Haumea he continued. 'Do not mistake me. I would not change it either. Although, perhaps I would shorten my stay with the Volni.' He laughed once more. 'But then how could I be here with you, enjoying your hospitality and your wonderful countryside.
Haumea scowled, but Nikka smiled. 'That is no jest, my dear Haumea. When you have spent years in darkness under a mountain then a little rain is not to be seen as a misfortune.'
But the rain intensified. They slipped down the remainder of the hill and Haumea suggested halting, but her earlier assertion was correct. There was no shelter to be found in the lea of this hill. They would have to go on and hope they could find something in the next valley.
'Tell me of your life Nikka,' said Haumea as they scrambled to gain the first in a series of levels on this hill. 'I have told you of my land. Now, I require a tale to ease the passing of the miles. Tell me not of your murdering though. That, I wish not to hear.'
Nikka grinned, thinking of the ways he could shock this enigmatic Giantess, but he suppressed his immediate response and told her instead of the great city of Sordir. And while he spoke, it joined them in a purpose. His description of the ancient and fallen city unified them, made them a team. They began to slip through the rain rather than fighting against it and soon they were on the penultimate level of the last hill they could see.
They tried to shelter there, under an overhanging shelf of rock, but the wind howled around the mountain and the rain continued to assault them. So they moved on.
Getting started again proved difficult. Haumea had to drag Nikka up and over the brow of this hill, sending loam and stone cascading back down the mountain.
The summit was horrendous. Without anything to break the wind's path, rain was driven straight into their faces, but they struggled on for a mile or so over a series of rises and falls until they approached the north-eastern descent.
Nikka looked over the edge at a drop of a score of feet, which then became a gentle slope. Then there was another edge and another drop, and then another and another.
At the bottom, he could see a copse of trees. The sun had started to fail so they would have to try and reach them now. A night on this summit would test even the Giantess' massive stamina. And the Ghria Duh had gained on the Sun once more.
He spotted a small ledge down on the left from where they stood. It was too far for him to leap and be sure he could stop himself from falling over the next ledge. Haumea nodded and prepared to jump. If she fell, it would be the end of both of them.
But she landed perfectly, using her off centre balance to topple against the exposed wall on the ledge.
'Jump,' howled Haumea against the wind. 'Jump!'
Nikka looked down and grinned, then threw himself off the edge. He had misjudged his leap and landed on Haumea with a clatter. The rain had made Haumea's arms slick, but she used his momentum to push him into the wall. With the wind knocked from him, he lay on the ground and looked up. Nikka smiled up at the Giantess and she scowled down at him, but her eyes soon softened and she offered him a hand. It was wet, but he held it tight as he was lifted to his feet.
The slope below them was steep but, despite the weather, navigable. The downpour had turned the ground into a quagmire of mud and stones. They slipped down the incline, managing to avoid the pale rocks that protruded from the surface at irregular intervals. Then they came to a rest at an enormous semi-circular rock that shone in the half-light of the sinking sun. The soil was piled up behind it, making a smooth shelf. The moved forward and peered over.
Beyond the rim lay a similar series of line of rocks, making layer after layer in the side of the hill. As they tried to plot their course, the storm intensified, whipped by a fearsome wind, so together they leapt over the stone and down onto the next level. When they landed a crack of lightning and peal of thunder shook the ground. The reverberations continued for a second and then the land fell still, but the storm continued.
Nikka pushed the rain-water out of his face again. In this platform, the soil had not gathered so high. The curve of the stone rim that marked the end of the level brought the end of it around to brush the one above. They could risk a descent at the side of these series of levels, but there, nothing would stop them should they slip, so when Haumea nodded over the white stone lip Nikka went without hesitation.
This level was shorter and the soil was piled higher. Nikka could not stop. He rolled right over the top of the next stone divide. As he did, he reached out, trying to gain a hold. When he touched the slippery white stone, his hand recoiled in revulsion. It felt too familiar, like something he had touched more times than he would care to admit.
Behind him, Haumea suffered a similar fate and she rolled down on top of him covering them both in a fresh load of mud. Then the sky erupted and a flash blinded Nikka. The roar that accompanied it caused his ears to shriek in pain. But even the ringing in his ears could not mask the deep rumble.
The ground beneath them lurched in pain. And then the land fell silent. Then there was a crack deep within the hill, as if its spine had fractured.
The wall holding back the soil above them slid forward as did the one before them. Nikka watched in impotent horror as the world around him lurched forward, sweeping him and Haumea towards their fate at the foot of the hill.
Something heavy hit Nikka's back and he was lifted up. There were no flashes of his former life, no epiphany, just a strange calm that settled over him as he hurtled onwards. He could make nothing out above the collapse of the mountain. He watched in amazement as the sky lit up once more and lightning burned a path across his eyes.
He jerked upwards and was released into the air. Down he plummeted, as he gazed into the sky. After a brief flight, he landed face down in amongst the mud and stones at the bottom of the hill.
With no time to wonder how he had survived, Nikka slapped himself on the head, half to check it was still there, and leapt to his feet. The black heart of the hill exposed itself to him, all of the topsoil, rocks and grass had tumbled down the side, and now the ground looked as a bite had been taken out of it. The soil continued to slip downwards as Nikka moved over the fallen debris.
Then he found what he sought. The Giantess lay with a few boulders on top of her. He ran to her side and collided with the largest one, using his momentum to shove it aside. Haumea's gasp was a delight to hear. She blinked at him through the rain. Then she stood up and cast aside the other boulders.
Together they stumbled to the trees that lay beyond the reach of the rock slide. There they built a fire with hands that trembled and for a time they kept their thoughts to themselves.
-*-
Just before night fell, Nikka returned to the foot of the hill. The storm had broken just after they started their fire, so the drizzle that fell now did not worry him. There was something he needed to confirm and something he must do.
His race had good vision in the dark, so the crepuscular light was only a slight hindrance to him. Without any problem, he located the white stones that had been swept down the hill. All of the larger ones that formed the shelves were broken, smashed by the force of their own momentum, but he did not seek those. He found a few rocks, white and smooth like the larger ones and sorted through them until he found one that looked right. The touch of them was still abhorrent to him, but he fought the revulsion. He slipped the pieces into a pouch and then continued his search.
By the
time Nikka returned to the fire, the sun and rain was gone. Now the Ghria Duh burned black and alone in the sky, in defiance of nature.
Nikka moved to a space Haumea had set aside for him, but he ignored the food and pushed aside the bed roll. Haumea looked up at him as she massaged her legs.
Piece by piece, Nikka removed the fragments of stone from his pouch and laid them upon the ground. Then he sorted them once, and then again and again until he was satisfied. The two dozen fragments, some of them longer than his hand, made an indelicate jigsaw in the dried mud at the fireside. The Cerni ran his fingertips over the pieces from one end to the other. Each time he touched a piece, a jolt of discomfort greeted him, but he set his feelings aside.
The pieces did not fit neatly together, for they had not come from the same source. Some pieces were weathered where others were stained by centuries of internment. But he knew that their positioning was correct.
He began to chant to himself as he ran his hand back and forth along the stones. It was an ancient melody, one formed on the infancy of this world. He called to the stones, searching for each one, reaching into them and finding their true names.
Nikka had not melded stone since he formed his cave high up on the Rathou, but the tones, the cadences, the touch, the force – they were engraved into his soul. His heart came alive in this task.
And as he sang and moved, the stones responded. They began to lose their definition under the influence of Nikka's power. They began to unbind from reality and find a new purpose, one more condign to his cause. He worked and sang and moved.
And soon they were not pieces anymore; they were whole. It was as if they had been restored to their rightful place. They were combined now to make a single shaft of grey and white stone.
The Redemption of Wist Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3: The complete collection Page 47