Navigating his way through the forest, Kane continued walking until the distance was sufficient enough to prevent him from hearing the sound of the Fallen tearing into flesh. He had seen enough for one night, and although it had been hours since he had last eaten, his stomach still churned with the memory. Focusing on the Master’s news of Jarrow’s demise provided a welcome distraction from the Fallen, and their pathetic attempts for supremacy.
Kane paused on the outskirts of the forest. Safely concealed within the shadows he watched with fascination the strange machines of this world move towards the glow of the distant village. Somewhere, hidden in its midst was the one he sought. Today had been close. The Tracker cornered and almost at the point of surrendering. Kane had sensed his defeat and relished in it. But then that glorious taste of victory had been snatched away by the Council’s interference. Tomorrow would be another day, and he did not intend to fail.
Kane thought of Mercadia, so smug with her elemental spell, and demonstration of power. The same power that she had stolen from his family, and that he would soon claim back. Little did she realise this recent show of force would bring about her downfall. The uprising was no longer just a delusion of his crazy mother’s mind. Kane had not forgotten. He would make damn sure that Mercadia didn’t either.
The Selensia would breach, and Valoria would be taken, another realm surrendered to the Master’s control, his plan seamless and helped along by the Council’s misguided belief in the ramblings of some foolish mage. Though a sliver of doubt remained. Kane considered the risk that Mercadia had taken and questioned why she had chosen her best Tracker, sending him across time and space to find a human girl. Why do they so fiercely protect him and leave themselves vulnerable to attack? With only a small piece of the tapestry, the answers eluded him.
Kane silently berated himself. If he had just swallowed his anger and persevered a few more days, he may well have possessed the remaining pieces of the tapestry. The servant girl had been so besotted with him and eager to please in every way Kane demanded. Granted, he had enjoyed her for a short time. Such remarkable skills for one so young, and her access to the Council’s records made her more than an appealing prospect. Kane had considered bestowing the honour of becoming his mistress, until she had bitterly disappointed him with her betrayal and stupidity.
The day she announced she was pregnant with his child, Kane had slit her throat. No whore would ever carry his firstborn son. He watched the light bleed out of her eyes, with no remorse for the mother, or child that died in her womb.
Deciphering the information contained on the small piece of cloth, stolen before her death, had made the Master nervous. Without the rest of the detail provided within the prophecy, neither of them could be entirely sure. They knew nothing of the human girl, only the world from which she came and the foretelling of a Tracker, who would show her the way. The Tracker would be born in Valoria, and he would be the protector of the keys.
Kane had known the minute the Silver Stag was found, that the one they called Finn, was the Tracker referred to in the prophecy. The day Finn had travelled through the portal, Kane had followed him, and his hunch had been correct.
He flinched as a sudden scream echoed around the forest. It was loud enough to alert anyone passing by of their presence. Temper erupting, Kane stormed back towards the camp. A fight had broken out amongst the Fallen, each arguing over the scattered carcasses of the first scout team. They snarled and wrestled at the scraps of meat.
Kane considered for a moment whether he should have given them an alternative form, one that didn’t heighten their already bloodthirsty nature. He couldn’t deny that this had brought certain advantages, including an enhanced ability to hunt their prey.
Sensing his arrival, the Fallen looked up.
“Any more fighting and I will rip the bloody lot of you apart myself.”
Barrock turned and hissed to the others. The Fallen immediately withdrew into the shadows.
“I told you to clean up this mess,” Kane said.
“We are, Commander,” Barrock replied.
“Then do it without the squabbling. Have you set up my quarters?”
“Yes, and there is food ready for you too.”
“Good. See to it that there is no further disturbance.”
Barrock nodded and retreated in silence. Kane continued to his tent and was pleasantly surprised to find himself greeted with a large plate of spit-roasted deer, accompanied by an assortment of vegetables foraged from this world. The meal was much more fitting to his refined palate, and a significant improvement on Irian’s pitiful offering of fish, Barrock’s use of the Hymorius table much more developed.
Kane sneered, appeased by the thought of Irian’s bones now being picked from his brethren’s teeth. A befitting end for the miserable creature who had foolishly dared to mock his authority.
Whispering an intonation, Kane warmed the contents of the plate and slowly ate until nothing remained. Hunger slaked, he reached for the glass of wine and took a moment to savour the delicious bouquet of oak and spices from his home-world. The liquid warmed and soothed the last of his irritation. Pouring another glass, he contemplated his next move. Only when his plan was formulated, and the bottle drained, did Kane yield to his exhaustion and, fully clothed, stumble into bed.
Chapter Five
Pinchinthorpe, North East England
Finn groaned and rolled onto his side. He was far from impressed at having been yanked out of what had been, up to that point, a most enjoyable dream. Wrapping one end of the pillow firmly around his exposed ear, he snatched at the last remnants, hoping he could somehow find and pick up where he left off. He failed miserably.
“I know you can hear me.” Mercadia’s voice refused to leave him be, and continued with its annoying, and persistent drone.
The dream that he was so desperately trying to cling onto evaporated instantly. Finn turned onto his stomach and buried his face. Reaching for a second pillow, he swiftly dragged it over his head, attempting to stifle her voice as it continued berating.
“Don’t you ever learn? I am not silenced that easily.”
Cursing loudly, Finn hurled both pillows.
“Really?” she tutted, making him feel like a petulant child. Lying flat against the mattress, he folded his arms and glowered at the ceiling. He could sense her temper rising too.
“Oh, for pity’s sake.”
The curtains in his room tore apart, plunging Finn into daylight. Squinting from the sudden brightness, he kicked at the duvet repeatedly until it finally fell to the floor.
“Feel better?” Mercadia’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Finn swung his legs out of bed. “You’re a complete pain in the neck, do you know that?” Stomping to the bathroom, he slammed the door behind, not caring a damn whether she happened to be watching or not.
“Have you finished behaving like a child now?” Mercadia enquired as soon as he emerged from the bathroom.
Reaching for the clothing Patrick’s wife had given him, he pulled on the trousers.
“Can’t you give a guy some peace?”
“Peace? What peace? Remember that you’re here on the Council’s orders. As I told you last night, time is of the essence. Please tell me that you found the girl?”
Finn acknowledged her with a grunt and continued to dress.
“Excellent news. You have at last, restored my faith in you.”
Ignoring the remark, he searched around for his boots.
“Try the bathing room. I seem to recall that’s where you removed your rags.”
Muttering under his breath, Finn checked the bathroom as Mercadia suggested and could almost visualise her smug smile. His boots, covered in dirt, were nestled in the corner beneath the sink. He grimaced and ran the tap, washing the grime away.
“Have you ever considered that this quest isn’t as easy as you seem to think it is? Particularly with the Master’s minions on my tail.”
“Why do yo
u think we chose you? It certainly wasn’t for your charm!”
“Even with my ability, I am one man.”
“One man you may be. But you’re not alone. The Council is with you, keeping a close watch.”
Finn rolled his eyes. “Don’t I know it.”
“May I remind you what could have happened last night, had we not been watching?” Mercadia said.
Finn had to concede on that point. He dried his boots and pulled them on. “I am grateful to you.”
“I’m glad. Now, the girl you must contact immediately.”
“That was my intention,” Finn grumbled, scooping up the discarded remains of his torn and still sodden clothing, and dropping them into the wicker bin. Returning to the bedroom, he heaved a sigh and collected the bedding he had thrown onto the floor. Sensing her impatience, Finn continued with his efforts to straighten the room rather belligerently, grinning as she huffed loudly.
“Did I not mention before about the sheer importance of time?” Mercadia said.
“It’s a few minutes, and Patrick has been kind to me. Besides which I need money to pay him for the room, and also for food and transport. I can’t leave the poor man high and dry when he has shown me much kindness.”
“Very well. Go to the mirror. My power, as you know, is still regenerating, but I can manage this. I will need your help though.”
Finn did as she requested. “What is it that you need from me?”
“I want you to focus on the mirror and listen to my voice. Put aside all other thoughts and feelings. Nothing else exists but my voice. Use your senses and reach your way forward through the glass. Every ripple brings you closer. Know that you will find me, my voice your guide.”
The mirror brightened, breaking free from the constraint of its frame and continued to grow in size, consuming his vision. Finn stepped closer, drawn like a moth to a flame.
“That’s it, follow my voice. Allow all of your senses to let go. Trust me.”
Taking a deep breath, Finn relinquished the last shred of doubt and propelled forward, passing through his reflection with a shudder. Light shimmered around him, and his body surged with an unexplained power. Holding his arms out in front of him, he watched as luminous waves rippled outwards with each searching sweep. The effect suddenly brought reminiscences of his childhood and the long days spent with Aaron casting coins across the waters of Tahlia in exchange for wishes granted.
The brightness of the mirror evaporated with the memory. The room as it was before, except that the reflection staring back at him was no longer his own. “What is this?”
“It is called the Lemure.” Mercadia was too slow to conceal her surprise.
“You weren’t sure I could pull this off, were you?”
“I admit I wasn’t altogether confident.”
Finn sensed something else behind her answer, and could almost feel her battling to bury it beneath the surface. “What are you hiding from me?”
She shook her head quickly. “Nothing.”
Finn wasn’t convinced. Mercadia’s eyes shifted past him, as though she had detected something of interest, and yet desperately tried to ignore it. He decided against another argument, for now.
Delving into her robe pocket, Mercadia retrieved a small yellow crystal and offered it to him. Tentatively he reached his hand forward, eyes widening when it slipped through the glass with ease. A contrast of temperature felt against his skin, the coolness of the glass and the warmth of Mercadia’s brief touch, as she dropped the crystal into his hand.
Finn ran a finger across its smooth surface. “What is it?”
“Citrine, it will provide you with what you need.”
Removing his hand from the pane, he stared at the crystal resting in his palm. “How do I use it in this world?”
“Take the Citrine, and visualise what you need. When you see this firmly in your mind, then place it in your right pocket, and reach into your left. Be careful though, the crystal only has so much magic stored before it needs to return to our world and recharge. Use it wisely,” Mercadia said.
Finn followed her instructions and visualised the currency he had observed exchanged in this world. Taking care not to manifest too much, and avoid attracting unwanted attention to himself, he placed the crystal into his right pocket and waited for a few moments. A heaviness dropped into his left trouser pocket. Slowly he reached inside, almost stumbling backwards as he pulled out a roll of paper notes.
Mercadia chuckled. “There are limits as to what you can manifest. The crystal will let you know if you ask too much of it.”
“I understand.” Finn returned the money to his pocket. “I need to eat now, and you, I sense need to rest. I assume the Selensia is holding up?” He observed the pain in her eyes. “What else haven’t you told me?”
Mercadia lowered her gaze. “As we feared, the Master attacked last night. He took advantage of the fact that I was weak.”
Finn gave a sharp intake of breath. “How bad is it?”
Mercadia raised her eyes to meet his. Her voice shook as she spoke. “He succeeded in fracturing the Selensia. The damage was enough to send three of his assassins into Valoria. We’ve repaired the rift in the veil, but they are free to move within the realm.”
Finn sank to his knees. “It’s all my fault.”
“No, we knew the risk we were taking when we created the storm through the portal. Gregor has sent all the men he can spare into Valoria to help Elisha.”
Finn’s stomach was in knots. “Which assassins?” he asked, although he was not sure he wanted the answer.
Mercadia tugged at the collar of her robe. “We do not know who the other two are.”
“But you do know of the third?” Finn asked.
She nodded, her gaze sliding away from his and her bottom lip trembling.
Finn watched her fingers play with the Sapphire ring on her hand. “Drey’s alive, isn’t he?”
Tears glistened in Mercadia’s eyes. It was the first time Finn had seen her look so vulnerable.
“Yes,” she said quietly.
“You let him go?”
“I couldn’t do it,” she said miserably. “I had hoped instead to reach him and bring him back before it was too late. I thought his love for me was strong enough.”
Finn observed the regret in her eyes. “You know that Drey’s soul is lost, don’t you? He killed innocent people.”
“I know that, now. I should have destroyed him when I had the chance.” The guilt was evident in Mercadia’s eyes.
“What else is there?” Finn asked.
“Jarrow is dead.”
“Drey?”
Mercadia nodded, her voice full of sorrow. “Jarrow fought bravely, but his wounds were too much. The Selensia’s repair left him nothing to regenerate with.”
Finn sensed her struggle to regain composure.
“The man I loved is truly dead. The Drey who attacked last night was something unrecognisable. The power he consumed in the void…” She took a deep breath in. “He’s completely deformed, malevolent. Jarrow didn’t stand a chance.”
A realisation occurred. “With Jarrow gone that only leaves one other Elder on the Council besides you,” Finn said.
“The Master won’t attempt another attack before my power has regenerated. Jarrow struck his blow too before he died and the Selensia sealed. He fought bravely and with honour.”
Finn’s blood ran cold, the gravity of Mercadia’s words sinking in. If the Master’s assassins had access to the Valoria border that could mean that… “My mother?”
“Safe, and under the Council’s immediate protection here in the Castle. Gregor has ensured that she has everything she needs. We have a cloaking spell around Riverwood,” Mercadia assured.
Finn felt his fear subside a little.
“Gregor has sent his second guard to Moon Dell. We cannot take the risk of Drey and the others crossing the borders and discovering the White Stallion.”
“Is Spirit safe?” Fin
n asked.
“The Fae have him under their protection. Thankfully, that’s one secret Melissa didn’t manage to share in her throws of passion with the Master’s second in command.”
A familiar churn of anger stirred in his gut. “So much betrayal. What are you going to do about Drey?”
Mercadia’s voice barely a whisper. “I must kill him. He too will see that I am not the same as I once was.”
“Be careful. The Council is vulnerable. Now may not be the time to fight.”
“I will be. You should know that your mother has been of great service. Her knowledge of herbs is incredible. Many of Gregor’s men survived the night and are recovering swiftly from their wounds. She has earned the full respect of the Council, and your King. That will go a long way for both of you.”
“I appreciate you taking care of her, and I am pleased that she has been of service to Gregor. But understand that she is not working for the Council, and under no circumstances is she to be sent to the frontline as Gregor’s next healing mage. Do you hear me? If anything happens to her you can forget the prophecy and I won’t give a damn how many trees you hurl.”
Mercadia sighed. “Understood. We need to release the Lemure. I have to rest, there is much both of us need to do.”
“How?”
“Let go. Allow my voice to drift away until it is no more. Release me now.”
The connection cut, Mercadia’s thoughts no longer linked to his own.
Alone, Finn faced his reflection, unable to mask the internal conflict raging inside. In a furious haze, he headed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. His hands gripped the basin tightly, jaw repeatedly clenching with each thought that whirled back and forth. The Master had sent assassins into Valoria, Jarrow was dead, and Drey alive to seek his revenge. His mother safe, and Riverwood cloaked, but for how long? Only two Council Elders remained, and what of Spirit? Finn knew about the Fae but not of the magic that Mercadia spoke of. Is it strong enough to protect my friend?
The Veils of Valoria Page 6