Misthaven: The Complete Trilogy

by J Battle

  ‘What you going to do there, Cavour? You going to stop me and take the Stone to him yourself?’

  ‘Is that what you expect of me? You think I’ll wrestle you now you’ve got so big and strong? No, I’m just here sitting awhile, as you know I like to, with my old pipe.’

  BobbyJ was standing above him, with his curved thighs tight against the material of his pants, and his chest and shoulders threatening to tear the fabric of his clothes.

  ‘Sit yourself down, lad, you’re blocking what light there is, and you’ll give me a sore neck, looking up at you like this. Sit down here, and we can have a chat about what’s to be done.’

  BobbyJ slipped easily to the ground and sat upright with his back to the rocks.

  ‘So, old man. What sort of trickery do you have to make me give you the Stone?’

  ‘No trickery, BobbyJ. You always knew it was your father’s wish that I bring him the Stone.’

  ‘He might have told you that, before you left, but then he sent me after you, so what does that tell you about his intentions?’

  ‘A mere human cannot hope to know what goes on inside the mind of a Trytor.’

  ‘Well, I’m no mere human, and I do know what he wants, because he told me clearly. He wants the Stones, and he don’t much care how he gets them.’

  Cavour nodded at the bag over his shoulder. ‘It weighs heavy on you, Lad. Let me take it off your hands.’

  He sounded so reasonable that BobbyJ felt his hand twitch, as if it wanted to obey.

  ‘It’s no weight to me, Cavour. I could…’

  In a split-second he was on his feet and turning, his seven-fingered hands forming great claw-filled weapons.

  Rootheart was on him before he could bring his hands up in defense. The pair rolled together down the slope, almost silent except for their heavy breathing and the sound of their passage.

  BobbyJ had grown incredibly strong, but Rootheart was three times as heavy, and he’d known strength all of his life. The power in BobbyJ’s limbs was new and untried.

  With Rootheart across his chest, pressing down hard to impede his breathing, and his great hands gripping his throat, there was surely only seconds left of his young life.

  BobbyJ pulled back his hands from their vain attempt to crush Rootheart’s thick throut and he pulled the bag from his shoulder, ripping the strap.

  He held it above his head, away from his adversary, and he tore it open. The Stone fell into his hands, and he felt it spring to life. He had no Magic words to use to draw the Magic from the Wellstone, so he did the simplest thing of all. He struck at Rootheart with the Stone.

  He was hoping to break his skull, or to at least have him fall unconscious to the side.

  He didn’t expect him to howl like a thousand hounds from Hell and burst into flames.

  The burning half-giant flung himself away from the Stone, his clothes already burned to ash, his hands grasping at his face. His powerful body jack-knifed as the pain tore through him, and he began to moan; the low hoarse sound harder on the ears than his howling.

  BobbyJ leaned over him, fascinated by the effect of a simple blow from the Magic Wellstone.

  The stone that Cavour held in his hand was more of a common or garden variety, and there was not a speck of Magic to be found within its hard, unfeeling body. But it was a good weight and more than up to the task of rendering BobbyJ unconscious when Cavour used it to strike him on the head.

  With BobbyJ unconscious at his feet, and a burning half-giant to one side, it was a simple task for Cavour to scoop the Wellstone up with the half-torn bag.

  With a last glance at the stricken pair, he turned away and set off up to the pass that would take him, with a day’s hard travel, to the home of the last of The Trytor.

  Chapter 74 Sam

  ‘How is Mr Evens, my Lady?’

  She frowned and shook her head.

  ‘He will survive, I think, but he’ll never have the strength, or the will, to touch the Stone again.’

  ‘Oh, that’s…’ Sam didn’t know what it was, so he thought it best not to say anything further.

  ‘Don’t you worry, there, Sam. The Lady will know what’s best, and as long as you do what she tells you, you’ll be fine as a spring morning.’

  Sam scowled at Tom.

  ‘But…’

  ‘I’d surely like a drink of tealeaf, my Lady, if you have the fire to make it hot enough.’

  ‘Well, Tom, I think I can oblige, but would you prefer a glass of lemonale? You’d find it more refreshing, I think.’

  ‘Dan the Man, he don’t reckon lemonale is suitable for boys,’ said Sam, with a shake of his head.

  ‘Dan the Man don’t reckon there’s much that is suitable for boys, if you ask my opinion.’

  ‘Don’t believe I did, Tom. Not at all.’

  ‘Well, I think Loren is already pouring the lemonale, so we can’t have it go to waste, can we? And if Daniel has something to say about it, then you just send him to my door and I’ll be sure to put him right.’

  Tom nodded at Sam, as if to say ‘I told you so.’

  Loren brought a tray loaded with frothy glasses for all of them, and they settled down at the Lady’s table.

  ‘Now Sam, you’re not to worry so much about what is to come.’ She took a drink from her glass and Sam smiled at her froth-moustache.

  ‘You will not be asked to do anything you don’t want to, and despite what Tom says, you don’t have to do whatever I say.’

  With a doubtful look on his face, Sam slurped his lemonale.

  ‘I don’t know, my Lady. It’s only me who can use the Stone, and I reckon the valley still needs Magic.’

  ‘Well, you know it’s my opinion that we have relied too long on Magic, and now we are paying the price. I don’t believe the Mage’s old Wellstone will retain its potency for long, and you don’t have the years of training required to control it properly.

  ‘So, we have to be practical. Your work on the dam wall is only a temporary solution, I believe, and the Magic will wear off if not sustained. But the water of the lake is now much reduced, and the submerged path that some of us used is now revealed, and it is really the simplest way across the water. I have summoned a team of stonemasons from Tlur to examine the wall and provide a more mundane solution to the problem.’

  Sam sighed as he listened to her words. He lost her meaning with words like ‘sustained’ and ‘mundane’, but he was just happy to hear her speak, and say he wouldn’t have to use Magic again. At least, that’s what he thought she said.

  ‘You should give that Stone back to Mr Evens, and he can hide it away in his bag, never to be used again, I reckon,’ said Loren, with her head down and her face half-hidden by her hair. ‘It ain’t right what the Stone makes men do, it ain’t.’

  Alice placed her hand on the girl’s arm.

  ‘You have no need to worry. But I don’t believe the Stone is evil. The evil was already in Anders. The Stone merely allowed it to be expressed. But we will soon be in a world without Magic. A world where the strength of a man’s back and the keenness of his mind will make all the difference.’

  Loren nodded and looked up; her eyes meeting Alice’s.

  She smiled; not just in encouragement. The girl’s blue eyes and gentle, troubled face brought to her mind an image of her own sister, as she last saw her, on Rizer’s Edge, just a year ago.

  ‘These fine boys,’ she said, her mind clinging to the memory, ’will grow up to be good capable men, and, together, we’ll all find out how to grow crops and keep ourselves warm in the cold, and learn to live without Magic.’

  ‘My Lady,’ said Sam, ‘don’t be all concerned. We’ll be alright, won’t we there, Tom? No need to have tears in your eyes.’

  She smiled and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  ‘I’m just being a little silly, that’s all, Sam. Don’t bother your head about it. Now, drink up boys. It’s getting late, and you don’t want Dan the Man locking you out again, do y
ou?’

  ‘No need to worry none about that, my Lady,’ said Tom, who’d been remarkably quiet. ‘He’s off ahunting, and he reckons he’ll have a stag ready for when them Giants get back.’

  As she guided the boys to the door, Alice frowned.

  ‘Let us hope that it will be just the two of them, and not a great hoard.’

  She might have been relieved to know that the pair of Giants was already back, and arguing about who should go through the city gates first.

  **********

  Crawlord Elstar sat high on the Talking Stone and considered the empty Fellhall. Knowing that he was the last of the Elvenfolk here made the place seem cold and unwelcoming, and there was no-one to witness him taking what should be his rightful place on the Elflord step.

  He sighed and stretched out his long legs, and he shuffled his thin buttocks a little. The Elflord step was not at all as comfortable as he'd expected.

  He'd had such high hopes when he led his Elven band into the valley beyond the mist, and he'd truly been just so close.

  But now the Stone was gone across the sea to Fairisle, and he had returned home to find that the rest of his people had already gone.

  For a cold lonely hour, he'd sat on the dock and watched the masts disappear one by one over the horizon, on their journey to Fairisle.

  With the Wellstone on the same island as his brethren, it was only a matter of time before it was found and mayhap a new Elflord crowned.

  'It should be me,' he whispered to the empty, echoing hall.

  He knew that he shouldn't have come here. He saw the ships and he knew that they were gone, and he should have headed back to the valley, to find that human. He professed to knowledge of where other Wellstones could be found, and he was probably lying, just to save himself, but still, it needed to be investigated.

  And he would, he told himself. But first he wanted to come back home and feel the emptiness and know how close he'd come.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, and the years weighed heavily on his bony shoulders. For such a long time, he'd looked for Magic as he felt the vitality seep from his wrinkled old body.

  How long could he sustain himself? How long could the Elvenfolk survive? Without Magic, they were not just diminished; they were doomed.

  With a sigh, he opened his eyes and stood upright. He was doing no good here, he thought, as he descended the steps.

  He paused for a second on the crawlord's step; the only one he had the right to stand on.

  Then, with sudden speed, he was off across the hall. Off to find the lying man, if he was still lay in the forest with his broken leg.

  Chapter 75 BobbyJ

  Consciousness found him, and he immediately rolled to his feet. He couldn't help noticing how much smoother his movements were now that both his legs matched.

  He spun around, alert for any danger, but all he saw was the inert naked body of the half-giant.

  Cavour was gone, and with him the Wellstone.

  Slowly BobbyJ walked closer to the massive figure of his foe.

  He was still, although his great chest rose and fell as he breathed. Any hair he'd had on his body was burnt away by the ferocity of the flame that had scoured his body.

  BobbyJ stood over him for a moment, trying to work out what was best to do.

  Cavour was long gone, but if he left now, he might be able to catch him. But he was crafty, and he wouldn't be easily found. Was it wasting his time to make the attempt? Or should he give up on the Wellstone and give the day to Cavour?

  With his mind still occupied by the problem, he stepped away from the half-giant and his eyes scanned the ground.

  He still had Cavour's notes in his head, so perhaps he should just be off to Fairisle and see how clever Cavour actually was. It was only a few days away by ship; he could be half-way there before Cavour left his father, with the first part of his mission a success.

  By the time his old companion reached the coast, BobbyJ could already be on his way back, with the second Wellstone in his possession.

  He nodded to himself and puffed out his cheeks. Yes, that seemed the right course to take.

  He bent then and picked up a large oval stone; heavy enough to require that he use both of his seven-fingered hands.

  He carried it back to the half-giant.

  'One little task to do first, before I leave,' he said, quietly to himself.

  He lifted the rock and brought it down with all his strength on the brow of the half-giant.

  He expected to see blood and crushed bone when he pulled away his weapon, but all he saw was what might be a slight bruise, and it seemed to fade as he watched.

  'I see,' he said, and he glanced around quickly to be sure that they were still alone.

  With a grunt, he struck again, and again, and again.

  But the half-giant remained hale and hearty, breathing gently as if he was in the midst of the most relaxing of slumbers.

  BobbyJ knelt beside him and rested one hand on his unmarked brow. He could feel the heat on Rootheart's skin, and then it suddenly cooled.

  He struck once more, and again heat flared in his skin, and faded just as quickly.

  'It's the Magic,' he whispered, as he stood up.

  He recognised the half-giant now. The last time he'd seen him, he'd been immersed in a tower of fire.

  'The Magic runs through him,' he said, quietly. 'It sustains him and keeps him from harm.'

  He chuckled then, and sat down in the dirt beside him.

  He had no true idea of his father's intentions with regard to the Wellstones, but, whatever they were, how much more use would he have for a creature imbued with the power of Magic? For the living embodiment of Magic?

  'Oh yes, young BobbyJ, this'll be fine, I think. No need to be off across the sea just yet.'

  The half-giant stirred, and BobbyJ smiled. Would he have a headache from all the hammering?

  'W-what...?'

  'Easy there, big man. Take yourself easy. You've been sorely burnt, and I reckon you banged your head some on the way down.'

  Rootheart sat up and glared at him.

  'You're...'

  'BobbyJ, at your service and all,' said BobbyJ, with a little bow.

  'Where's he gone?'

  'Cavour is off on the wind, and he has the Stone.'

  Rootheart nodded. 'Good then. At least that's fine, then.'

  'Good? You think it's good that he's stolen the Wellstone and he's giving it to the most evil creature that there has ever been?'

  Rootheart watched him speak, his face expressionless.

  'Is that where you were taking it, then?' He frowned as if a sudden pain had flared in his temple.

  'No, why would I be doing that?'

  'Well, you brought it here, I think, so it makes sense to me, it does.'

  'No, he's befuddled your mind with his clever words.'

  'They didn't seem that clever to me.'

  'That just shows you how clever they were, 'cause you didn't know you were being fooled.'

  Rootheart rested his broad hands on his knees, and gave a shake to his head.

  ‘Here,’ said Bobby as he pulled his cloak from his shoulders. ‘Wrap this around yourself. I don’t like the way your thing is looking at me.’

  He stood upright, towering over BobbyJ, and wrapped the garment around his waist.

  He frowned at his benefactor.

  ‘Listen to my words, big man, and you’ll see I speak the truth.’

  'No, your words, they've got an echo, and I don't like that.'

  'That's just your sore head ringing; that's all. Now you're back on your feet there, I reckon we should go after him and get the Stone back, and you can flatten him with your big fists for his trouble.'

  Rootheart looked down at BobbyJ, and mayhap he saw something there, or mayhap he'd already made his mind up.

  'No, I don't reckon so, BobbyJ. I've got other things I have to be about doing, and standing here listening to your clever words ain't getting th
em done. So, I'll just say this, just to shut you up before you start getting on my nerves again.'

  BobbyJ smiled and shook his head. 'Giant, he's got you all befuddled...'

  Rootheart held up one massive hand and looked over at the pass.

  'Stop talking. I came here to get the Stone off you, and that's been done well enough. And Cavour is off with it to put it beyond the reach of man, and I believe he will do that. So there's no more need for me to stay here, less it be to thump an annoying little man who don't know when to stop talking.'

  More clever words sprang to his mind, but in the end, BobbyJ found that they were of no use at all, so he pressed his lips together and stepped back.

  Rootheart turned his back then, and he set off, away from the pass, back the way he'd come.

  BobbyJ watched him go. For a moment, he considered following him, but where would that get him?

  With a last glance at the pass, he turned south, towards the sea.

  His next stop would be Fairisle.

  Chapter 76 Gorge

  Gorge had never been colder.

  Even with purloined cloths and thick boots, he shivered as he walked.

  At last he came to a halt and, with his chest heaving, he looked around.

  God’s Saddle stretched behind and below him, and all around him were high mountain peaks. To the south east, he could see Big Peak and just the edge of Little Peak peeping round at him. To the west, he could spot the very tip of the second peak of Iceheart.

  According to the instructions in Anders’ map, the cave should now be visible to him.

  But it wasn’t.

  How much could have changed in barely a year? Obviously the mountains were as they always had been, but had the glacier crept over and into the cave? Blocking it forever?

  He held one hand above his eyes to shield them from the glare off the ice. Was there something up ahead?