My dad reached me, his brown eyes filled with a concern I’d never seen in them before. “Take care of yourself, Bren.” He turned to Acaw. “Make sure he stays out of trouble.” Acaw’s crow-brother squawked and if the elfling ever showed emotion, I could picture him rolling his tiny eyes.
Instead Acaw gazed up at me, obviously waiting.
“Fine.” I blew out a breath, exasperated. “Acaw, I command you to lead me to the entrance to Talamadden.”
Rol lowered his head.
Acaw’s expression did not change. He bowed, then headed out of the clearing, his staff grinding the dirt with every step he took.
I looked from my father to Rol, then turned and followed Acaw.
***
Chapter Three
Pursuing a peacock against the flow of an unnatural stream was no easy task.
The bird walked gracefully, tail lifted, keeping his feathers free of the freezing water. The coldness stunned me, along with the sense of motion. I made it a few steps—not even to the blinding darkness—then fell. Icy water flowed over my lower legs. My knees throbbed from what felt like bruises and cuts.
Why had I never noticed that the stream had stones, just below the surface?
“Do your legs hurt from the rocks?” Egidus asked, stopping but not turning around.
I ground my teeth. “Yes.”
“Good. The pain will help you think. Perhaps you will remember more, and faster.” The bird started walking again, strutting relentlessly into the darkness. His head disappeared, then his shoulders, and half of his bluer-than-blue body.
At that moment, the tree I had been sheltering beneath seemed to reach out and yank me backward. Not literally, with branch-claws or gaping knothole mouth. Instead, I felt a dark energy, subtle at first, building to a powerful rage. It gripped my shoulders and jerked at my soul. My heart—if I still had a heart—fluttered, then pounded.
Shadows! They’ll kill me!
“Bird!” My shout tore at the furious, oppressive silence. “Egidus. Wait!”
I can only lead you, the peacock answered in my mind. This passage is yours to make.
“Great. Thanks for nothing!” Seeing my entire past instantly, powerfully reminded of my worst moments with Bren, I reached for my old magic and shouted, “Cease!”
Of course, nothing happened. I already knew Talamadden had no traditional magic, and besides, I had transferred my Earthly power to Bren before my death. The vicious pull on my insides continued. I fell on my backside and gasped at the sudden cold from the water.
“Let me go,” I demanded, struggling back to my feet. My teeth started to chatter. Tremulous shaking competed with a new, hot flash in my chest. Rage of my own. A fury so complete I thought my head would catch fire.
I turned back toward the dark patch of ground, the hut, and the leafless tree. All trembling came to an abrupt halt. Squinting, I thought I could make out a huge, shadowy presence hovering just above the entire area.
A Shadow. It has to be.
My hands grew weak, and I wanted to kneel and scream. Of all the things I might have to battle, why the one thing I knew would defeat me?
“Leave me alone.” My voice came out in a low, menacing growl, sounding much more courageous than I felt. “I may not have my magic, but I have my will. I know the essence of life and spellcraft. I would dare to battle you. Beyond that, I would want no credit past my own satisfaction at your destruction.”
The black entity flexed, showing its massive muscle. I thought I could make out its true shape in that instant—falcon-like, with huge retractable talons behind human hands, topped by a human face. Not a Shadow. It looked more like a harpy.
Relief struck me like a bolt of fresh energy. After Nire and the horrors of the Shadowmaster’s nearly successful quest, I was not impressed by a simple monster, no matter how ancient or mythic. I had never seen one before, but I knew of the beasts from my long studies with Father. He told me many strange old creatures still existed, but preferred never to be seen, even by most oldeFolke. Harpies were among those secretive clans best left to their own pursuits.
With deliberate force and slow consideration, I took a long breath. My right hand, I fisted and curled over my heart. My left hand, I extended and pointed at the hovering creature. I might not have magic left, but any witch or human can invoke if they believe, if they know the words and ask with a true heart. I didn’t know if I could tap the essence of Talamadden as I had the Earth, but I certainly had to try.
Giving up was no longer in my regimen, my recent death aside.
“Goddess, I beg you, hear my call,” I chanted while I pointed toward the creature. “Bind this evil, bind it all. Keep me safe, pray heed my plea. Bless my journey. So mote it be.”
The harpy-thing flexed again, turning a darker black. I whispered another invocation, asking help from the stones, the unnatural stream, even the grassless ground and the leafless tree.
A roar cleaved the suddenly roiling air, and the empty nothingness began to rumble and quake. The hut cracked at the walls and roof, then tumbled in on itself with a bone-rattling crash. I no longer felt the water’s cold on my ankles, but I wasn’t going numb. Either I was heating the water, or it was heating me.
The being before me took even more form now. I could see it beating its fierce wings against the darkness.
Water splashed against my thighs and knees as the stream widened. I held my stance, kept my eye contact with the creature who had been trapping me—who was determined to keep me under spell.
“Release me in the name of the Goddess,” I commanded.
More roars answered me, high-pitched, ear-bursting, along with a doubling of the pull on my soul. I felt like I might separate, crack at the sides and topple like my hut and tumble in on myself, but this only made me more resolute.
Changing tactics, I tried a less complicated, more natural instruction. “Go away!”
As I spoke, I prayed the fiber of Talamadden, whatever it was, would respond to my honest invocation. I didn’t expect much, but I was wrong. The words flew from my mouth like a sledgehammer, backed by a searing glow even brighter than the golden blaze usually emitted by a witch. My physical body seemed to fall away, and I became what I knew true witches to be—more light than substance. A part of the natural, no matter which world or plane we visited.
The dark beast let loose with another high-pitched wail, like a creature in infinite pain.
The pitiful sound reached inside me and twisted my heart. Tears sprang to my eyes. Inexplicably, I wanted to run to the beast and fling my arms around it like it was nothing more than a hurt human child.
Oh, had I been in the darkness too long.
With a flap of its substantial wings, the harpy lifted from the patch of ground, high above the leafless tree. Before I could give in to my absurd urges or lower my hand, it was gone.
With it went the stifling pull, and all the darkness around me. To my great surprise, I found myself standing in a pleasantly cool blue stream, so clear I could see the smooth stones lining its bed. Verdant grass rippled off both banks, and the leafless tree now boasted a thick crown of shimmering green leaves. An oak, it was. A live oak.
I turned slowly, my eyes just beginning to adjust to the bright, hot sunlight as it chased away the shadows.
Egidus stood a few yards away, tail spread in a brilliant fan of blues and greens. I could see every detail now, from his impressive crown of slender feathers to the multi-hued splendor of each plume. The “eyes” on his decorative train were the most beautiful shade of indigo I had ever seen. His actual eyes seemed much less menacing in the daylight.
“Congratulations,” he offered, lowering his tail. With a shake, he settled each feather back into place. “Other than looking like you wet yourself, you’re no worse for the battle. I wasn’t certain you would escape that first minor trial.”
Minor trial? Minor trial?
“Was that a harpy?” I frowned, glancing at where the ruined hut lay,
sprouting yellow flowers that bloomed even as I watched. “This is Talamadden, yes? What was something like that thing doing here?”
Egidus made a sound like laughter. “Do you think only good creatures die by spellcraft? Or that evil leaves its evil behind in death?”
I opened my mouth to answer, thought better of it, and closed it with a snap. Of course evil creatures died by spellcraft, before their time, just as I did. And of course they didn’t leave their essence behind in the world of the living. That would unbalance the universe, since enlightened souls take their enlightenment with them when they transition to a new plane.
“When a dark-souled creature enters Talamadden, they seek or make dark places, where they are most content.” Egidus now sounded temperate and thoughtful, like a teacher or parent. Once more, I was struck with a sense of familiarity. I shivered, uncertain of the meaning of my instinct.
Egidus. I should know what that word means. It sounds so familiar. The image of a goat intruded into my thoughts, not a menacing or Pan-like goat, but a typical billy, barely a yearling and munching a mouthful of tender spring grass. I had no idea why a brilliant blue bird made me think of goats. Perhaps my thoughts were still a bit jumbled. After all, I had died fighting the world’s greatest evil, then almost been sucked dry by some ancient demon for Goddess-only-knew how long. And then I got approached and challenged by a talking bird, and tapped the essence of the world of the dead.
All in all, I’d say I had been under a tad bit of stress.
“Yes, you have faced stress, Jasmina Corey, Queen of the Witches.” Egidus took a few bird steps into the taller grass leading away from the stream and out into the seemingly endless meadow. “Unfortunately, your experiences to date are only a sample of what lies ahead.”
“What are you talking about?” I hurried after the peacock, surprised that I found it difficult to keep up with him. His head bobbed forward at a maddening pace, challenging me with each thrust.
“You must find the way out of Talamadden, back to the land of the living, or all of your sacrifices will be meaningless.” Bob-bob-bob-bob went his feather-crowned head. His train made a shushing noise on the soft grass. “The boy you kidnapped and forced into service will die, and soon, if you fail.”
That got my supposedly dead heart beating hard all over again. I thought about the visions I had been shown, of Alderon and the spy. I thought about how Bren would most likely try to find me. Somehow, those two factors were destined to merge in some horrible fashion, and I had to stop it.
“Will you show me the way out?”
At this, the peacock began preening nervously, avoiding my gaze. After a few moments of pecking at dirt and whatever else might be on bird feathers, he said, “I can only lead you.”
Grimacing, I finished the sentence for him. “The passage is mine to make.”
“Most are not fortunate enough to have a guide.” His tone was peevish, but also teasing. “You should count your blessings instead of wanting more than you’re given.”
I shifted from foot to foot, feeling oddly chastised. Not like I did when my impossible-to-please mother dressed me down for an infraction, but more like I did when my father used to express disappointment in me.
“What are you?” I asked, returning to my initial curiosity and question. “How do you know who I am?”
“You should pay attention, Jasmina. Words are important.” The bird blinked at me, and I had the oddest impression that he was smiling. “I’ve already told you what I am.”
“You’re a peacock,” I muttered, searching my mind for what the handsome blue fowl had told me. “You’re here to lead, not solve my problems. Most are not fortunate enough to have a—oh! You’re a guide. My spirit guide.”
Egidus blinked one eye, like a roguish wink. “A bit slower than I would have liked, but impressive nonetheless.”
“Thanks, I guess.” I shook my head. “I can’t tell if you’re being nice or sarcastic.”
With another settling of feathers, Egidus set off again, this time walking slowly enough that I could keep up.
“You’re a thinker, Jasmina, and a consummate practitioner.” He sounded resolute in his opinions. “Very few could have cast the spell to find the true Shadowalker, and fewer still could have helped their champion defeat Nire. And you managed to invoke the natural magic of Talamadden, since this area of death’s haven is still attached to the world of the living.”
My thoughts were already turning to Bren, to his warm eyes and soft, wild hair. Even to the stubble on his chin. My chest ached. Bren was in danger because of me—again. He needed my help, and more than anything I wanted to give it. I had to find my way back to the world of the living. I had to save Bren, to give him back the loyalty and courage he had freely offered me.
To see him once more, to touch his face with my fingertips, even if only for a moment…
“What do I have to do to get out, Egidus?”
“The way out of Talamadden is different for every traveler.” The peacock had stiffened into the teacher-bird again, speaking in crisp tones. “That is why few discover the right path. Even if we proceed, the journey may be in vain if no one comes to meet you on the other side.”
I fell silent, considering his words, since he had made a point earlier to tell me how important words were. Few discover the right path. That put me in mind of the Path that protected all witches from persecution. Bren had built it back again, at least in part. He was easily powerful enough to isolate moments in time and connect them, and to escort witches from one time to another to avoid those inevitable moments when humans rose against that which they failed to understand.
Whether or not he had learned to manage the oldeFolke, now that was a question. Bren had shown an aptitude for angering hags and failing to perceive the dangers of ancient beings like klatchKeepers. Sometimes Bren was headstrong, and he was always impulsive.
“Walk faster,” I urged the peacock. “I’m afraid he’ll die before we get there.”
“A very good idea, my lovely queen, but not for the sake of the boy.” The bird picked up his pace. His wings rustled as if he were considering flight.
Before I could ask what he meant this time, or demand that he stop speaking in riddles, I heard the sickening sound of huge, beating wings coupled with blood-freezing screams. And the sounds were coming closer.
Something like sunset overtook the beautiful meadow, and the air grew colder by the second. “The harpy has returned.” Egidus half-hopped, half-ran, tempting me to do the same. “With friends.”
***
Chapter Four
I followed Acaw out of the woods and into the main village of L.O.S.T. without hesitating. A king shouldn’t hesitate once he’s made a choice and issued a command, right? Besides, I wanted to see where he would take me.
The door lies in lands forgotten. The living shall not cross. Those who search forever wander. “Beware the Guardian,” I mumbled, going through the usual recitation. “Old blood. True guide unwilling.”
My eyebrows shot up.
I had that last part, didn’t I? An unwilling guide. And a true guide, too. Elflings knew about the land of the dead, and they were always loyal. I’d had to command him, but Acaw was doing what I had asked him to do.
That thought gave me a little juice, at least. A guide. Yeah. Willing or not. As for the rest of it, I was counting on Acaw.
It was no real surprise when he led me directly into the general store, toward the back, toward the Path. Of course Talamadden would have to be on the Path. Anyone who wasn’t a witch or oldeFolke wouldn’t see the magical highway through time from the outside. To a human or the unconverted, it simply looked like whatever environment it happened to be in—and in L.O.S.T., the major contact point happened to be in that general store full of herbs, spices, batwings, lizard eyes, and, well, fingers and stuff. What the oldeFolke did with fingers, I really didn’t want to know.
“Come, boy.” Acaw glanced back as we moved beyond the store’s
last aisles full of paws, hides, skeletal remains, and hanging, furry tails. “No woolgathering. If we’re to do this, we should be away before the hags raise a protest.”
Acaw’s crow-brother gave an impatient flap of his wings as I stepped up to the back wall, drew my sword, and slid the tip down the side of the Path to make us a doorway.
“Why would the hags protest?” I sheathed my sword as a rush of cool air slipped through and caused my hair to lift from my shoulders. The chain and moonstone around my neck seemed to absorb the chill, turn it slowly aside as if it had never touched me. “This has nothing to do with them.”
Acaw mumbled something in the ancient tongue of the oldeFolke, then translated, “Old legends say that the day the living journey to the land of the dead, more than ba and ka will return.”
“Jazz will return,” I shot back.
The elfling narrowed his eyes. “You see only what you wish to see. I fear that blindness may cost your life at the Guardian’s hands.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I stood before the Path opening and glared at him. “Are you going to start on me like Rol and Dad about rushing headlong into things?”
“No. This you did not rush.” He paused, then continued, “You studied, much to my surprise, but do you grasp the meaning of the words?”
I ticked off each point with the fingers of my free hand. “There’s a forgotten door, the living can’t cross through it, those who search wander forever, I should beware of the Guardian, only old blood can pass—and I had to find an unwilling true guide—you. Did I miss anything?”
Acaw shook his head and sighed. “Nothing. And all.”
His crow-brother said a little more with that blazing go-to-the-dark-side stare as Acaw moved past me to peer inside the shimmering opening in the Path. Unlike during the days of Nire, we didn’t have to rush to close the Path behind us to keep the Shadows in and the bad guys out. Now the only beings on the Path were those that my brother Todd and I escorted from Sanctuary to Sanctuary.
“Come.” Acaw pushed his way through the slit I had opened.
L.O.S.T. Trilogy Box Set Page 29