Merina’s blood spilled dark over Rishona’s ivory dress. She beat helplessly against the firm hold of the San’iloman, squirming like a rabbit ensnared, passing one hand over her throat in desperate, rapid strokes as her knees slipped against damp earth.
Donatya retreated to the edge of the circle, spread her arms toward the sky, and began her own chant.
Achme talam nu. Bechnem ahraht neme. Salahm machne du.
The rim ignited in high blue flame. A muffled scream sounded from beneath the mountain. Another tremor passed through the earth.
Rishona’s pulse accelerated.
Mechnes barked a sharp command to the guards, who readied their arms.
Mechahne
Mechahne achnam
Talam nu ahram
Merina seized the ivory gown of her mistress in a soundless, desperate plea for mercy.
Rishona set her eyes on the frantic servant. A dark veil fell between them. Sorrow and pity melted under the onslaught of something deeper and richer, the taste of blood upon her tongue, the surge of power in her belly.
She bent low, stroked Merina’s hair, and murmured in her ear. The servant’s struggles diminished, then ceased altogether. Rishona wiped Merina’s bloodstained cheeks with the hem of her skirt. Her lips met the servant’s in a tender kiss. Then she laid Merina on the wet ground, where the woman twitched in the final throws of death.
Talam nu ahram
Merina
An inky shadow blossomed beneath them. The trees shivered. The earth moaned. Rishona retreated across the periphery of the circle, the wall of flame leaving no mark upon her. She turned to watch her dying servant.
Merina’s body convulsed. Her wild eyes closed, and her limbs went limp.
Mechnes edged toward Rishona, sword unsheathed. His gaze darted between his men, who watched the circle with shields raised and bodies tensed.
Rishona sensed their anxiety, but she did not share it. A deep calm had entered her spirit, a sense of connection to all the heavens above and all the darkness below. Merina’s soul began to seep from her body, flowing toward the Underworld, forming a fragile bridge between the land of the living and the dead.
Now. It must be now.
A hollow scream shattered the silence.
Inside the circle, the ground twisted and flowed into a vortex of soil and rock. Merina’s limp body was drawn toward the heart of the mountain. She disappeared amidst unearthly howls and sounds of tearing flesh.
Then the earth exploded upward, bathing Mechnes and his men in a shower of dirt and gravel. Inside the ring of fire, a creature appeared, swaying on long glowing limbs. Its predatory eyes were lost in gaping hollows; its mouth was an open pit dripping with blackened saliva. One ebon-clawed limb grasped Merina’s corpse by the ankle, like a child dragging a doll. The slave’s ribcage had been ripped open and her heart torn out.
Merolim, Rishona murmured. Matue.
She lifted her palms in a gesture of supplication, speaking a smooth cadence of motherly love and reassurance.
Hem alouim natue
The creature roared and lunged at her, hitting the wall of fire with an agonized shriek. Mechnes rushed toward Rishona’s side, but stopped short when she raised her hand in warning.
The Naether Demon stumbled backwards and rocked on oversized limbs. The murky pits of its eyes remained steady on the San’iloman. It drew Merina’s corpse into a glowing embrace. Its head jerked around, seeming to focus on each of Mechnes’s men before turning toward the sky, the forest, the ground at its feet.
You begin to understand.
The Naether Demon dragged long claws through the upturned earth, gathered the loam, and crumbled rotting leaves in its pulsing grasp.
Sweet creature of darkness.
It returned its empty gaze to Rishona.
She stepped into the ring of fire.
Merolim, Matue. Hem alouim natue.
Merina’s corpse slipped from the Naether Demon’s grasp. Shuffling forward, the beast pressed its flat muzzle against the palm of Rishona’s hand. Its touch was cold as ice.
Rishona’s chest rose with a sudden intake of breath.
Natue¸ she murmured. Alouim natue.
The Naether Demon nuzzled places where Merina’s blood had soaked Rishona’s ivory dress. A deep shudder passed through it, melting into a constant echoing purr. It lowered itself on lengthy limbs and released the weight of its body to the ground.
Heart filled with wonder, Rishona stroked the Naether Demon’s glowing skin. A quiet hum escaped her lips, a lullaby. The creature closed its eyes and rested its naked head against her soiled skirt. It yawned and then lay still.
Rishona looked to her uncle in triumph.
“It is ours,” she said.
Chapter Seven
Night
A crash jolted Eolyn out of her sleep. The door flung open and Ghemena burst into the room, throwing herself at the maga and wrapping her arms tight around Eolyn’s neck.
“Don’t leave!” she cried.
“Ghemena, what has gotten into you?”
“You can’t go to the South Woods!” Ghemena could barely speak between choking sobs. “You mustn’t.”
There was a knock at the doorway and one of the guards appeared, a black figure silhouetted against the starry night. “Maga Eolyn, we heard a disturbance.”
“It’s just Ghemena.” Eolyn ignited her bedside candle with a short spell, casting a tenuous light across the room. “She’s had a nightmare. You may go. I will call if I need you.”
The man nodded and disappeared, closing the door behind him.
“Come now, Ghemena.” Eolyn extracted herself from the girl’s grasp. “We’ve already talked about this. It will be a short trip, a quarter moon, perhaps. A fortnight at the most. I’ll return before you even notice I’m gone.”
“You can’t go!” Ghemena wailed.
“Hush, now.” Eolyn wiped tears off the girl’s cheeks. “Take a deep breath and tell me what this is all about.”
“I had a feeling.” Ghemena sniffled.
“A feeling?”
“Not a feeling. I saw something. Shadows and flame.”
“You had a dream?”
“Not a dream! It saw it happen.”
“Magas cannot see the future, Ghemena. Dreams are simply dreams, and divination—”
“Is a reckless form of magic, I know! But I saw something. Something bad.”
Eolyn smoothed down the girl’s hair. “Nothing will happen while Mariel, Sirena, and I are away. You’re living in the most peaceful province of the kingdom, protected by some of the finest knights of the King’s guard.”
Ghemena frowned. After a moment, she offered tentatively, “Sir Borten is very brave.”
“That he is.”
“He led a battle against invaders from the north, just a few days ago.”
“Yes.” Eolyn smiled. “I heard about that.”
A group of boys from Moehn, Markl’s gang no doubt, had been caught spying on the Aekelahr.
“Sir Borten charged them on his destrier and swung his sword like this, and this.” Ghemena’s arms carved clean arcs through the air. Her voice gathered enthusiasm. “They ran off in terror, and they’ll never come back again.”
“There, you see? With a knight like him to protect us, we need not worry about our enemies.”
“But it wasn’t the boys from the village that I saw just now.” Ghemena bit her lip, brow furrowed in concentration. “It was something worse, something awful.”
Eolyn gathered the girl into a comforting embrace. Ghemena’s father was a brutal man, and her brothers inclined to abusing their baby sister and locking her in the cellar. She had been prone to nightmares ever since she arrived at the Aekelahr, though several months had passed since the last incident.
“Please don’t go,” she whimpered.
Eolyn searched the neckline of her gown and pulled the silver web out from its hiding place. “I have an idea. Can you keep a very impor
tant secret?”
Instantly, Ghemena’s eyes were alert with curiosity. She nodded emphatically.
Eolyn placed the silver web carefully in Ghemena’s palm. The pendant, small but exquisite, was made of tiny quartz crystals woven into silver threads.
“This is very old magic, women’s magic,” Eolyn said. “The ways of weaving it have been lost to us, so you must take very good care of it. If you misuse this, or damage or lose it, we will never have another one again.”
“What does it do?”
“It allows you to find a friend. It can take you to wherever I am in a blink of an eye.”
Ghemena whistled through her teeth. “All the way to the South Woods?”
“All the way across the kingdom, if necessary. All you have to do is spin it, and say the spell I will teach you, and keep all your heart and all your spirit focused on me.”
“I can come to you any time at all?”
“No. Not any time. You may invoke this magic only if you or one of your sisters are in grave danger. You must promise me you will not use it otherwise. Do you understand?”
Ghemena nodded, wrapping her fingers around the pendant and pressing it close to her heart. “Where did you find it?”
“King Akmael gave it to me a long time ago.”
“The Mage King?” Ghemena scowled. “But you said it’s women’s magic.”
“It was woven by his mother, Briana of East Selen. She gifted it to him when he was a child. Then, one day, he discovered how to use it. The silver web took him to the South Woods, and that was how we met. Years later, after my brother’s rebellion, when the King pardoned me and let me return to Moehn, he gave the silver web to me.”
“Why?”
“The jewel carries the essence of us both. As long as I have it, I can find the Mage King in the same way you’ll be able to find me.”
“Yes, but why would you want to find him?”
Eolyn hesitated. “It is difficult to explain, Ghemena. It’s just that the King and I…”
A lump caught in Eolyn’s throat. She drew Ghemena close, pressing her lips against the girl’s silky hair, breathing in her wonderful aroma of honey and warm bread. “King Akmael gave this to me because he did not want me to be afraid, just like I don’t want you to be afraid, ever again.”
“Did you ever use it to go to him?”
“No. Never.”
Should I have?
“I’m glad.” Ghemena tightened her hold around Eolyn’s waist. “I’m glad you never went to him. I bet if you had, he’d never have let you come back.”
Ghemena slept with Eolyn that night. When the maga awoke the next morning, her ward had already risen. Eolyn found her in the kitchen with Catarina and Tasha. All three girls sat on high stools, swinging their legs as they tore apart dark bread and gulped down Renate’s hearty tea. They teased and poked at each other while the old maga admonished them to be still.
The older girls, Mariel and Sirena, sat a little apart, heads bent together in quiet conversation, satchels ready at their feet.
Adiana hovered over them all, refreshing supplies of bread, fruit, and Berenben cheese. She glanced up as Eolyn set down her satchel, winked, and said, “Well, don’t you look like the maga warrior this morning, with a sword on your hip and a staff in your hand!”
The girls gasped and giggled in delight, but Ghemena moaned in disappointment. “You’re taking Kel’Barú?”
“Of course she is, child,” snapped Renate. “It’s her weapon, isn’t it? She can take the sword wherever she pleases.”
Ghemena pushed out her lower lip in a frown.
“You should get yourself some chain mail, too,” Adiana said. “And a nice, shiny helmet. And a pair of a fancy gauntlets like the ones Sir Borten had delivered from Moisehén.”
“I’d lose myself under so much metal.” Eolyn took a place at the table and accepted a cup of tea from Renate. “I wouldn’t be able to hear anything, not the trees or the animals. Not the plants whispering in the wind, or the earth pulsing beneath them.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Adiana helped herself to a generous portion of Berenben cheese and served Eolyn as well. “You don’t need to hear anything if you’ve got a plate of metal over your chest and a sword in hand. That’s why men don’t bother listening. Why should they, when they can settle their differences with a few good blows?”
“If you’re taking Kel’Barú, you should take all of us!” Ghemena declared. “Catarina and Tasha want to go, too.”
The three youngest sprang on Eolyn with wide, suffering eyes.
“She’s right, Maga Eolyn. Please take us along!”
“There’ll be nothing to do here when you’re gone.”
“What do you mean there’ll be nothing to do?” Eolyn threw up her hands in mock irritation. “All of you have spells to master before I return. And if that’s not enough, Maga Renate and Mistress Adiana have plenty of lessons and chores for you, as well. Your days will be very full. Besides, a maga is never bored, because her joy—”
“—comes from the endless renewal of the earth itself,” they recited in unison, before breaking into exaggerated groans.
Adiana draped her arms around the young girls’ shoulders and spoke into their ears with a mischievous grin. “We’re going to make pies, breads, and jellies. We’ll eat all the sweets we want while Maga Eolyn’s away.”
“That’s not true.” Ghemena shrugged her off, indignant. “You said that the last time she left, and it wasn’t true then, either.”
“Well you caught me in the act, didn’t you? Clever girl!” Adiana seized Ghemena and tickled her without mercy. “Now you know not to listen to my promises. And it’s a good lesson that one, never believe a promise.”
Squealing, the girl wriggled out of Adiana’s grasp and darted around the table, taking shelter beside Eolyn. Her small body heaved with breathless laughter as the maga pulled her close.
“I want to go with you to the South Woods,” Ghemena said, wrapping her arms around Eolyn’s waist.
Eolyn’s heart wavered, overtaken by sudden nostalgia, the intense joy of companionship intermingled with a haunting sense that everything she most loved in life was constantly slipping away.
“You will.” She looked to all of them as she spoke. “When Mariel, Sirena, and I return, we will organize another trip for everyone. We will journey to the South Woods together, and we will dance among the trees under the light of the next full moon.”
They cheered and clapped their hands and set to work clearing the table.
Eolyn had expected three horses prepared for them, but much to her chagrin, Sir Borten and Delric waited with five mounts.
Delric was a new member of the guard, having stayed behind with a few others after the King’s visit. Short and stocky, with a swarthy face and unkempt look, he gave Eolyn a curt nod before busying himself with the horses.
The maga turned to confront Sir Borten, her tone sharp and final. “I told you we have no need of an escort.”
Borten finished adjusting the girth strap, jaw set and gaze focused inward. He was a tall man, well-built, with fine blond hair and clear blue eyes. “That is for me to decide, Maga Eolyn.”
“We are only travelling to the South Woods. There is no place in this kingdom I know better, no terrain more secure for me and my students.” Indeed, the South Woods was her last refuge from men-at-arms like these two, and Eolyn wished to keep it that way. “I need you to stay here with Renate, Adiana, and the children. You are sworn to protect this Aekelahr, Sir Borten.”
“My men are sworn to protect the Aekelahr.” He turned to face her, expression resolute. “I am sworn to protect you.”
The challenge in his tone gave Eolyn pause.
Sir Borten had dedicated three years of his life to this lonely outpost on the edge of the kingdom. During that time, Eolyn had worked with him, argued with him, and yet never truly come to know him.
He had family somewhere in Moehn, parents and siblings to th
e north, if she remembered correctly. Years ago, he had killed Akmael’s father in a jousting accident, an error that should have cost him his life, but the last command of the old King was to see the young knight pardoned. Akmael had honored this wish and restored Borten to knighthood in the first act of mercy of his reign.
It was said Borten had fought valiantly in the Battle of Aerunden, and that he had saved Akmael’s life. But Eolyn knew little else about him. For her, he had simply been an unwelcome burden forced upon her by the King. His vigilance was a constant thorn in her side, and she had never let him forget it.
Perhaps just this once, I can allow him to fulfill his duty in peace.
“Very well,” she decided. “You may accompany us, Sir Borten. I presume you and Delric have set aside additional supplies? Mariel, Sirena, and I packed food only for three. We can’t have our protectors going hungry.”
Borten’s shoulders relaxed, and he gave a satisfied nod. “We have what we need, Maga Eolyn. Thank you.”
They rode southeast along the Tarba River, fording its minor tributaries and making camp at night along the banks. The river was high and murky with recent rains, and in the mornings, damp earth exuded a thick haze that painted the landscape in muted shades of rose and gold.
Reeds wavered in changing currents, and silver blue herons watched from partially hidden places along the river’s edge, their necks long and graceful, gaits slow and stately.
On the second day of travel, Eolyn took advantage of the herons’ presence by shapeshifting Mariel and Sirena, so they might learn something of the waterfowls’ magic. She followed barefoot along the grassy banks, quiet so as not to disturb the animals, yet never too far from the transformed girls.
The river’s happy riffle renewed the ache in her heart. It reminded her of the day she and Akmael first played as children in the headwaters of the Tarba, deep inside the South Woods. They had searched its crystalline depths for the rainbow snail, and encountered other wonders instead. Her laughter had rung high and free, his demeanor had been serious and attentive. It was strange how those days could be gone forever and yet so very present.
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