The Elder Mother (Riftkeepers Book 4)

by Carrie Whitethorne

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Epigraph

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  About the Author

  Coming Soon

  ©2018 Carrie Whitethorne

  1st Edition

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the Author.

  For permissions contact attention: Carrie Whitethorne Riftkeepers@mail.com

  Cover by D K Combs.

  Edited by Analisa Denny.

  Created with Vellum

  To Dagda.

  You truly screwed this one up.

  Acknowledgments

  You know who you are, you know what you did, and I know where you live.

  The sole way to save oneself is to save others. Or to struggle to save others-even that is sufficient.

  Nikos Kazantzakis

  One

  Seren

  Admiring the basket I’d woven that morning, I sucked at the berry sap on my fingers and frowned at the purple stains left behind. The air was cooling as the sun began to set, but the sky was still bright and blue. I realised I would have to return home soon.

  A bird watched me from the top of the hedge, waiting for me to leave and give it safe access to its nest. I checked my basket; I had plenty for today, with elder for wine and medicinal tea, rosehip for tincture, bramble for eating. I’d found some garlic and herbs to flavour the fish we would eat later.

  Aedric was away with the hunting party checking the river traps, and wouldn’t return until after dark. I would dread the times he was away. I worried; bears and wolves weren’t uncommon by the forest edge. He would be safe, I told myself. The men were seasoned hunters and they hadn’t returned without their full party for months. I pushed the thoughts away.

  Wandering along the hedgerow, I looked back to see the bird dart into the safety of the dense bush. I wondered if she would still have young with her, given the lateness of the season.

  My hand unconsciously cradled the small bulge of my stomach, now five moons since I’d last bled. I could hope for a healthy baby; a blessing from The Mother, my gift to Aedric. I smiled as I made my way back to the narrow trail that cut through the fields, content listening to the songs of birds and the rustling of the breeze in the long grass. The elder tree was visible again; a sure sign that I was almost home.

  As I drew closer, I noticed a figure beneath the tree. I called and waved, but they made no reply and I assumed they mustn’t have heard me. They wore clothing too dark to have come from any local animal, and I wondered who they might have been. A traveller? The longer I looked at the figure, the closer I came, the more uneasy I began to feel. Fighting the apprehension, I quickened my pace.

  Then I heard it. A girl sobbing. Pleading.

  My stomach leaden with dread, I dropped my basket and ran; ran toward the danger, toward a child in need of help, in need of protection. Instinctively, I shouted, drawing the attention of the figure. It turned, and I almost lost the contents of my stomach, the feeling of horror filling me completely.

  It was then I recognised the girl. Ada, only twelve years old. She lived in our village; I knew her mother. I yelled at her to run home as my legs ceased to move. The figure approached me, stalking me as a hunter would its prey. Stopping mere feet away, he pushed back his odd cloak and revealed himself. Not a he. An it. Beautiful and terrifying at once, his dark hair hung loose around his jaw, his beautiful mouth, pale skin, and pink cheeks formed a welcoming smile. But he was not human.

  Unable to move my body, I moved my eyes to meet his. I couldn’t feel, my senses numbed by his black, soulless eyes. They held me, told me not to move, told me that I now belonged to him; that I would go to him, would give myself to him. My head moved slowly up and down in agreement as every nerve in my body screamed at me to flee.

  Ada shouted my name, breaking his spell. Rather than flee, I bolted for her. A guttural laugh followed me as I rushed to protect the girl, to get her away. On my knees, I grasped a fallen branch and spoke quickly. “Go home. Take this branch. Protect yourself. It will keep you safe. Run!”

  Beneath the berry laden boughs of the tree, I remained on my knees as I watched her increase the distance between us. A twig snapped behind me and I froze, closing my eyes.

  “Hello, beautiful,” a husky voice said from behind.

  I tried to move, to run, to follow the girl to the safety of the village. Once more my limbs were immobile, stiff and heavy under some spell. Unable to escape, unable to defend myself, I begged The Mother to save me.

  “Your god cannot hear you,” the enchanting voice murmured in my ear. “I’m your god now.”

  His breath was icy cold on my ear as he spoke softly. “Quite a prize. I shall enjoy you.” On his knees behind me, he pulled me back by the hips and slid his hand around my waist. I gasped as he dug his sharp nails into my abdomen. His body tensed and he growled, “A pity. I require an empty vessel.”

  Tears streamed down my face as I mouthed another silent plea. My heart beating so hard I could hear it. He lightly kissed my neck, the chill of his breath numbing the skin. I felt no pain as he pierced my soft flesh.

  My blood pulsed into his mouth and he drank. As my consciousness ebbed, my final thoughts were of my husband and the child I would never hold.

  My eyes snapped open and focused on a single blade of grass. I admired the deep green and the grooves along its length, wet with dew. The beads clung to the contours of the stem, suspended in the cold morning air.

  With a shaky breath, I looked from the corner of my eye and saw the hazy form of the tree. The smell crept through the air, overpowering the fresh scent of the grass and earth beneath me. Acrid smoke. Destruction. Her destruction. Hauling myself up, I shifted to sit before the tree; my home. Broken and bent, the trunk cracked and split through the centre, I sat at her feet and wept for her.

  Another scent drifted toward me. Death. I wrinkled my nose and dried my tears with bunched fists. The furry bodies that littered the shaded ground had been my companions. I’d watched them for centuries, happy with their little lives beneath the tree, whatever magic it possessed providing them a safe place on the river bank. The birds were gone; they’d saved themselves.

  Managing to stand, I felt the amulet bounce against my bare skin. Grasping it, I glanced around, thankful that there was no one in sight. The riverbank was silent, save for the sound of the water rushing by, unconcerned with the harrowing scene. Peering up to the sky, I noticed a solitary bird in the distance. High up, clouds drifted by as I watched it soar toward me, flying with purpose, as though heading directly for my place at the river. He landed a safe distance away and I scanned the skies again before looking him over.

  “Where is your mate?” I asked him. He snapped his beak as though in answer. “You shall have
your meal soon enough. Leave me a while.”

  He waited patiently as I admired him, his feathers black as pitch, shining in the morning sunlight.

  I returned my attention to my bare body and with a thought, I was clothed. A simple black smock and leather slippers. Probably not appropriate, but I was covered. I brushed my fingers against the rough, twisted copper on the face of my amulet as I tucked it beneath my clothing. The crow let out a rasping caw.

  “You are welcome,” I muttered, approaching the tree.

  My fingers tracing the rough bark, I closed my eyes and willed her back to health. Whatever magic had done the damage, it had done it so completely that I wasn’t able to help her. She would repair herself, given time, but her magic was gone. Her wards, shattered. My home, destroyed. I rested my cheek against the rough trunk and whispered, “I will return to you, Mother.”

  I kissed her and turned to the bird. He still watched me intently as I walked toward him and said, “Goodbye, pretty bird. Be wary; the threat may linger nearby.”

  He tilted his head to the side and watched me leave.

  I followed the river south looking for signs of people. It was not a warm day and my arms were rough with goose bumps. A shawl covered my arms to protect me from the cold. The sound of birds chirping returned as I put distance between myself and my Elder.

  After almost an hour’s walk, I saw what I was looking for: a small town near a bend in the river. Finding a gap in the hedgerows, I stepped onto a road and followed it into the hubbub of the busy town.

  Strange, large mechanical objects careered along the roads. Cars, I would learn. They were too noisy; the fumes from them stinging my eyes and catching in my throat. I noticed the people: how they moved, what they wore.

  My attention was pulled toward a building that smelled strongly of what I remembered to be coffee, and headed towards it.

  With my head angled down, I glanced around at the people seated in small groups. Two young women, around my age, were talking and sipping drinks. Taking note of their clothing and hair styles, I ducked into what turned out to be the toilet, and I changed.

  Examining myself in the mirror, I smiled. The pants felt odd; tight fitting, but made of strong, blue material. A black woollen sweater concealed my amulet; its weight a comforting presence against my chest, and my boots were heavy, but functional. I turned my attention to my hair. It hung in tangles at my shoulders, nothing like the styles of the two young women outside. Theirs had been swept up and piled neatly on top of their heads. My own mirrored theirs at the thought, and I stepped back. Perfect. I dug in my pocket for money, which dutifully appeared, and I went back into the coffee shop.

  Scanning the room, I saw people lined up and joined them, listening to their conversations. The wall at my side was lined with glass displays, the contents a hive of colour. Cakes, I realised. The sweet smell of fresh baked goods drew a growl of hunger from my stomach. I moved down the line of customers, waiting my turn, mimicking the behaviour of those before me.

  “Wot can a get yer?” a young girl asked cheerily from the other side of the counter.

  I frowned and remembered the cakes. Pointing to one, I said, “That and tea, please.”

  She busied herself behind the counter, setting a tray with a cup and saucer, a spoon, plate, and teapot. Finally, the cake was placed on the plate, a small jug of milk set beside the teapot and the girl requested payment.

  I noticed her skin, smooth and accented, was nothing like my own; her thick brows sat in perfect dark arches, her lashes long, and her lips a glossy pink. I exchanged money for the tray the girl offered me and found an empty table.

  The shining silver teapot reflected my distorted, pasty image. I smiled as my brows arched and filled out, my skin darkened slightly, and my lips plumped. I marvelled at how much healthier I appeared. Pouring myself a drink, I watched the people around me, picking up their dialect, familiarising myself with this new breed of human. They’d evolved since I’d lived. Machines did most things for them and they could manipulate their appearances. They spoke more quickly, more efficiently, saying so much more in so little time in comparison to the language I’d spoken.

  I took a bite of the cake. The sweet, sticky food drew a groan from the back of my throat as I chewed.

  “They’re good, aren’t they?”

  I looked up, my mouth still full, and raised my brows in surprise. A pair of warm, deep brown eyes met mine. His dark brown hair, casually pushed away from his face, stopped before his ears. He had a few days’ stubble growth along his jaw.

  Swallowing quickly, I said, “Very. Can I help you?”

  He stood with a large mug of coffee in one hand, the other on the back of the chair opposite me. He smiled, pulled it out and sat down, cradling his mug in his large hands. He appraised me as I took another bite of my cake and waited for a reply. He took his time, watching me eat, sipping his coffee.

  His worn leather jacket creaked with the small movement of his arm as he raised the mug to his lips. Beneath it, he wore a loose t-shirt, a small emblem peeking through the gap of his open jacket. I regarded him as he surveyed me, neither willing to break the tense standoff.

  For all their advances, their senses had clearly dulled. This is why their world is falling apart, I thought. They don’t remember.

  He seemed to be oblivious to the power I possessed and didn’t consider me a threat.

  He placed his mug on the table and smiled. Cocking his head, he said, “Yes, you can tell me why you’re here, Seren.”

  They knew, then. I smiled. “Hello, pretty bird. Did you follow me all this way?”

  I sipped my tea, waiting for an explanation.

  “Yes. I was sent to check on you,” he said casually, glancing out of the window.

  “Why? Who sent you? Surely they realise what is happening?”

  “They’re engaged elsewhere, and I was nearby”—he paused, his eyes meeting mine—“and yes, they are aware.”

  “Is that the only explanation you have to offer? A demon destroys the last ancient Elder and they send me a Druid? How old are you?” I asked, my voice lowered, struggling to mask my irritation at his nonchalant demeanour.

  He watched me for a moment, grinding his teeth, his eyes weighing me carefully. “I can handle a demon. You can handle an army of them, I hear.”

  “You’re, what, twenty-five? Thirty? Have you even seen a demon, Druid?”

  He reached into his jacket and removed a folded piece of paper. Looking me over once more, he said, “Should you need me.”

  I cocked my head and studied his face. His expression wasn’t one of hostility, more frustration. If he thinks I’m going to be intimidated by a young Druid, then he is very much mistaken.

  The paper landed on the tray in front of me and he left. I watched him walk away, turning my attention to the paper before the door closed behind him.

  I stayed in the café for a second pot of tea and another cake as I continued to study the people around me, learning the language they used. They skipped words, I noticed, without losing meaning or emotion from their dialogue. If anything, they seemed more expressive for it.

  My thoughts turned to the Druid. He seemed displeased at his assignment, as though watching over me were somehow beneath him. I did not need his help. I have the power and the ability to handle this demon alone.

  A young couple took the table beside me and I watched them, sipping my drink. The girl tapped on a device in her hand as the man watched her intently. His lips twitched in the corners now and again while she paid more heed to her hands than to him. His own hand lay open on the table, as though waiting for hers to take it. After several minutes, she turned her attention away from the device, placing it in a bag at her side, and laced her fingers through his. They began a murmured conversation and I turned my attention away to the window, watching the comings and goings outside. The street was becoming busy with people as the morning wore on. Women carrying heavy bags, pushing carriages that clearly conc
ealed babies. My chest tightened, a chill freezing my heart at the recognition. Looking down, I found I was holding the paper the Druid had dropped before he left. Opening it, there were numbers beneath the scribbled letters I didn’t understand, one with only four characters, another much longer.

  I then realised that I needed a bag.

  Reaching down, I retrieved one that had appeared at my feet and stuffed the note inside. Another glance to the couple beside me released the tightness in my chest, replacing the feeling with warmth as the young man kissed the tips of his companion’s fingers.

  Love. They were still capable of love. There was hope for them yet.

  Checking the sky through the window, I noticed the morning was almost spent. The sun was bright, warming the chill air, but the people outside still huddled beneath thick coats. A strange feeling in my abdomen interrupted my observations. Realising I needed to use the toilet, I gripped the handles of my bag, leaving my table. A young man appraised me as I walked by and I offered a weak smile as I passed.

  Locking the cubicle door behind me, I struggled with the fastenings of my clothes. I would need a coat that was easier to navigate. A padded coat with a fur trimmed hood appeared on the hook at the back of the door.

  Washing and drying my hands, I took one last glance in the mirror. I looked so different in my modern clothing, much healthier for the adjustments to my complexion. I smiled, shrugging on the coat. It was time to begin my search.

  Two

  Elian

  I followed my escort from the main foyer through the white marble hall, toward the doors of the council chamber. I’d only been inside once before, and hoped this meeting wouldn’t be held there. The guard turned to the right, up a short flight of marble stairs, and I allowed myself to relax a little. Having received no explanation as to why I’d been summoned, I felt a certain amount of trepidation as I passed through the echoing halls and passageways.