Misthaven: The Complete Trilogy

by J Battle

  ‘I need to do something. This is Magic at work, I reckon, and it’s done a terrible thing, it has. It ain’t right.’

  Ellaine turned from him, and she took a cloth from her bag and used it to wipe the blood and dirt from Aarvarn’s face before she turned to do the same for Raarvan.

  ‘There, lad, that’ll clean you up nicely. Now, do you have any names for me, lad?’

  ‘Names?’

  ‘Ay, names of those lost to us today, and to the world forever. They’re worth a whole set of songs, I reckon, and I’m Ellaine Woewearer, and I’ll sing for them, I will. But I need some names.’

  ‘We only just got here, so we don’t…’

  ‘There were Heston and Tooldon. There were Andooll and Fermister.’ Aarvarn closed his eyes as he spoke. ‘Riimded and Cousrer, and little Aspened. Cluss and Divened.’

  ‘How do you know who was there?’

  ‘They ain’t here, are they? So they must be gone to the sea.’

  Raarvan turned to Ellaine.

  ‘Are they truly all gone?’

  ‘All that were near, I think, and most of your people had come south, from the cold, so I’m sorry to say that there won’t be many more Giants walking this land.’

  ‘And the sea, is it deep? All the way, like. They could have held their breath until it got…less deep, if it gets less deep.’

  Ellaine touched his arm, for there was no other comfort she had for him.

  Chapter 40 Sleurth

  He swam directly away from the island, for it was churning up his mind and making him sick with its evil taunts.

  He was no longer tempted to answer the call, but he heard it nonetheless. And it filled him with fear, not just for himself, but for the others who would surely answer.

  He swam towards the mainland, for something told him that that was where they would come from in their desperate need to answer the call, and if there was anything to be done, then that was where he should be.

  Full-grown Giants are heavy creatures, full of dense muscle and thick bones, and they do not float well, no matter how they might flap their arms and kick their feet. But a young Giant is altogether a different matter. He is tall of course, but he lacks the mass of an adult, and the salty sea will bear his weight.

  So it was that Sleurth came across a young male Giant floating face down in the choppy water, several miles from the shore.

  He reached out for him with his long pale arms, his webbed fingers grasping. When he’d flipped him over onto his back, the youngster’s dark eyes stared sightlessly back at him.

  Sleurth rolled away, for there was nothing to be done for the poor creature. He’d swam until he had no strength left, and he’d continued swimming until his life passed from him, and his last thought would have been that he could not answer the call.

  ‘It is a terrible thing,’ said Sleurth, and he might have said more. But words are such slow creations, when you are a Loosis, and there was better use of his time.

  As he turned away from the land, and the hundreds of dead Giants he knew were languishing in the depths, he felt a new emotion washing over him, as cold as the sea in which he swam. It wasn’t fear, though it was something akin to that emotion, it wasn’t disgust, though again, they were cousins.

  It was anger that coursed through his young body; that powered his every stroke, his every kick, as he raced as fast as he possibly could towards Fairisle.

  For someone must be held accountable for this atrocity, and he would not stop until that deed had been achieved.

  As he swam, he turned his head and he howled, his cry echoing across the water, a warning to his adversary, a call to arms for his kin.

  **********

  Julienne couldn’t help smiling at the serious expression on his face when she opened her door to him.

  ‘Well, Thomas,’ she said, with a mock frown, ‘it is kind of you indeed to spare me a little of your oh so precious time, and that’s the truth.’

  ‘Julie…’ He stepped forward and he wrapped his arms around her. ‘I thought he were… I thought he were dead, for sure. And the soothnurse, she said…but, I just heard, he’s going to be alright, he is, ‘cause his pa came, and he knows Magic, he does, and he used the Stone the way I couldn’t, and he made him better.’

  ‘So, that’s good, ain’t it? Why are you so sad and all serious? And, though I’m pleased as everything to have you here, why haven’t you gone to him?’

  Tom released her, but he took a hold of her hands.

  ‘His pa, the prince, he don’t like me.’

  ‘His pa’s a prince? You never said. I ain’t never seen a prince, I haven’t, not outside of a storybook, I ain’t.’

  ‘Well, he ain’t like any prince you’ll read about in you books, I can tell you that and you can have it for free, you can. He’s altogether darker, for one thing, in his moods like, and he can’t half shout when he’s angry.’

  ‘Why don’t he like you?’

  ‘He’ll reckon I took Sam away from him, and I didn’t, but he’ll say it was my fault. He’ll prob’ly shout and strike me down with his Magic.’

  ‘So, he’s a magic prince?’ she asked, with awe in her voice.

  ‘Don’t you be getting all soppy about him. He’s old as well, he must be 30 or even 40, I’d say.’

  ‘Don’t get grumpy on me, I was only teasing you. Why would I want an angry old prince when I’ve got you?’

  Tom smiled, and she thought he looked back to his normal self.

  ‘What shall we do now?’ she asked, cocking her head a little to watch him side on.

  ‘Well, I’ve got a good grip on your hands,’ he said, lifting their joined hands, ‘and that’s very nice, don’t misunderstand me, but I’d like to get my hands on what’s lying between, if that’s alright with you.’

  She smiled and drew closer, ‘In that case, my dear,’ she lowered her head, ’you can touch my head all you like, as long as you don’t mess up my hair.’

  Tom laughed and released her hands. He gently placed his hands on her head. ‘It’s not exactly what I was looking for.’

  ‘Why, whatever else would a gentleman expect to lay his hands on, without a hint of betrothal?’

  Tom kissed her head. ‘I suppose I can wait,’ he said, with a sigh. ‘But I will ask again, you can be sure of that.’

  She gave him a little smile that suggested that she was completely at ease with the idea and, hand in hand once more, they left her home and took themselves for a nice stroll along the reservoir, oblivious to the terrible events developing just a few miles away.

  Chapter 41 Gorge

  Gorge slowed as he reached the boulder that stood sentinel by the entrance to Misthaven, his mad rush from Frenk’s cottage having drained his body of much of his strength. But he didn’t stop, for he had a job to do, and he’d better be doing it quick, he reckoned, before his will ran away along with his strength.

  The great river of ice was right up against the boulder and there was nothing but a flimsy wall of mist to hold it back. The edge of the glacier towered over him, six or seven feet high, so he had to stand on the boulder first, before he was able to claw his way onto its upper surface.

  Of course, he could have just wished himself there, or floated up like a leaf carried by the wind. But no, he wouldn’t do that.

  Magic had brought nothing but pain, to him and to his friends. He had sought it with eagerness and passion, and he’d found that it was more than he’d wished for, more than he could have conceived. But he wasn’t ready to take on such a weight, such responsibility, such power. He could see now why a mage might spend half a life-time preparing to take on his Wellstone, and he could understand how Anders the Slow had fallen victim to the seductive Stone.

  As he set off across the ice, he thought of Sam, close to death at his touch, of the stern eyes of the Lady as she bid him calm himself, of the earnest expression on Tom’s face as he mirrored the Lady’s concern.

  He cared for all three, and Dan the Ma
n, and Mage Evens, and all of the others who had welcomed him to Misthaven.

  He was determined not to let any of them down. Not again, at least.

  The valley was far behind him, and the cold of God’s Saddle was biting at him through his boots, when he turned to look at the great wall of mist that protected his home from the prying eyes of the world.

  ‘This is far enough, I reckon,’ he said, and he shivered, for he’d not had the time or the thought to dress warm enough for the glacier.

  The wind was cold on the back of his neck, and the sky was full of the threat of snow.

  ‘At least I can do some good now, and not harm anyone up here. Without the glacier, the wind will be warmer, and there’ll be no threat to them from its unceasing growth. That will be something to be proud of, I reckon.’

  He didn’t need to speak eldritch words of power, for the Magic was within him already, ready to spring to life at a mere thought. With a sigh, he let it go.

  His hands began to glow and lightning sparks flew from his fingertips, but in truth, there was little for the world to see as he drained the Magic from his body. As the Magic poured into the cold hard heart of the glacier, it began to melt. At first just near Gorge, where he was gently lowered 20 feet to the iron-hard ground that had been hidden by the glacier for centuries. Then the heat spread, first causing riverlets of meltwater to dribble across its upper crust, then there was crunching and creaking as the solid mass of ancient ice began to crack and move, carried away by the submerged rivers of melting ice rushing down the mountainside.

  He kept enough Magic to himself to guide the rushing waters away from his little patch of cold ground, so that he wouldn’t be washed away with the growing, growling flow.

  He looked beyond the flowing glacier, and he gasped, for he could see what was happening; what he had done with his own reckless stupidity. The great torrent of grey and white water was rushing towards the valley, set to wash all life from the land that had been his home for more than a year.

  ‘No!’ he cried, and he stepped forward as if there was something he could do.

  The water was rushing towards the single boulder that protected Misthaven from the world. There were only seconds left before it would be too late. With all of the Magic he could access, he called to the mist wall, and forked lightning left his fingertips and sprang across the expanse of the relentless water, and he turned the northern edge of the mist to stone.

  He gasped as he saw great rocks falling from the sky and crashing to the ground, the sound lost in the roar of the angry water.

  His last sight, before the water took him, was that of the white water breaking against the new stone wall and falling back. Then he fell beneath the icy water, with no Magic to save him, and he was lost to the world.

  Chapter 42 Elstar

  Elstar had gone to bed early the night before, because he had a big day planned. He felt that the boy had been given sufficient time to get used to his Magic and to his position, subservient to his better, and it was time to take decisive action and secure his grip on the valley and its people.

  Before he went to sleep, he took up his hand-mirror and he admired his beautiful smooth skin and rich dark, glossy hair. It would ensure happy dreams for him as he snoozed the night away.

  When the rising sun awoke him, he’d stretched and yawned, sure that all was well with the world. It was high time he gathered together a little coterie of delicious humans to share his bed, he thought, as he threw back the blankets.

  He stopped the action half way, frozen in the moment, unable to believe what his eyes were telling him.

  After a moment, he released the blanket and reached for his hand mirror, his heavily veined hand shaking.

  For a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to look. If he didn’t see it, then it wasn’t true. Then he found the strength and looked down at the mirror. His blue eyes stared back at him, deep and glowing and wonderful; just as they had been the last time he looked. But now the smooth creamy skin was gone, and the long, luxurious hair. His eyes were set in a sea of wrinkled grey hanging skin, and his speckled scalp was exposed by his thin white hair.

  He groaned and tossed the mirror to one side. Then he covered his face with his quivering, liver-marked, almost fleshless hands, and he sobbed, his whole body shaking.

  ‘What has the foolish boy done?’ he muttered, unintelligibly into his hands. ‘What has he done?’

  He dropped his hands and he leapt from the bed, his despair temporarily replaced by anger. ‘Where is he? I’ll have his skin flayed and wear it for a nightshirt, I will, when I lay my hands on him.’

  He stormed from the mage’s palace and raced onto the road. Then he stopped, unsure which way to go.

  ‘He had a little friend, he said. Hurt by his Magic, and he expressed concern at the harm he’d done.’ He snorted at the very idea. ‘Mayhap he went to comfort him, before he…well, he must have the left the valley, and...yes, that seems possible. Then all is not lost, I just need to follow him and drag his beaten body back with me, and mayhap I’ll chain him to me, so he doesn’t wander off again. Yes, that would be fine.’

  He thought again for a moment, but the same conclusion presented itself.

  ‘Now, where would this little friend be? He came from the north, and his friends met him before he entered the valley, so…mayhap he hurt him somewhere close to the head of the valley? He‘d have taken him to a nearby dwelling, I’d say.’

  With the decision made, he hurried along the road to the north. His wizened face turned downwards and his whitefox cloak flowing behind him.

  When he came by the fields of rotting crops, his nose twitched at the foul smell, but he didn’t slow. Not until he spied a human woman standing in the middle of the road, with her back to him.

  ‘What are you looking at, my dear? All alone and defenceless as you are?’

  She spun around at his words, and she stepped backwards.

  ‘You are…you are Crawlord Elstar, I believe,’ she said, and her voice hardly shook at all. ‘Young Gorge’s…associate.’

  ‘Associate, my dear? Hardly an accurate summation of our relationship. Mayhap foot and footstool would be a better description. And there’s no need to look so worried. I’m a friend, after all.’

  Alice had gathered her wits a little by this time.

  ‘That is good to hear, sir, for friends are always welcome.’

  ‘Talking of friends, having you seen my little friend? I expect he has been this way.’ He moved a little closer to her as he spoke, as if it was only natural.

  Alice matched his move with a backward step of her own.

  ‘He was here earlier, but he left. He rushed out, quite disturbed, I think.’

  ‘And you were looking north, were you not? Is that the way he went?’

  ‘I made no observation of which way he went, sir, so I cannot say.’

  ‘Yet still, you were looking north.’

  ‘If you lift your eyes from their unseemly and unwanted study of me, then you will see what I was looking at.’ She held her head high and she gave him one of her fierce looks.

  ‘No need for such sharpness, little human woman, though I will say that you suit my tastes, with your soft skin, beautiful hair and slender frame. Do you have a brother?’

  He snorted at his own joke, before looking along the road towards the north. There was a brief moment when he didn’t realise exactly what he was looking at, then it struck him. The mist wall was no longer guarding the valley.

  ‘How far from the valley has he gone?’ he asked, softly, to himself.

  He bowed to Lady Alice. ‘Take a bath my dear, and anoint yourself with fragrant oils and await my return.’

  Then he was gone, before Alice could react to his words.

  There was a sudden sound behind her and she jerked around.

  ‘My lady,’ said Sam, with the first half of a smile, ‘no need to start so. It’s only me.’

  ‘Oh, Sam,’ she said, and she smiled as
her heart slowed its mad rush.

  ‘You were talking to that there ugly creature, and I was worried for you, I was. That’s why I took down this sword and rushed out to save you.’ He brandished Frenk’s long sword.

  ‘No need for that now, Sam. He’s gone.’

  ‘Ay, he’s gone, but he’ll be back, and I heard what he said to you, and that’s no way to speak to a lady, no it ain’t, and that’s a fact.’

  ‘You’re right, Sam, and I think, whilst he is away, we should get ourselves down to Hesselton and speak to the mayor, for I believe Gorge has taken Magic from the valley and he may not return.’

  ‘But…why, my Lady? He wanted the Magic, and he looked happy to have it when he came marching back, with the ice all turned to stone.’

  ‘The wanting is not the same as the having, Sam.’

  ‘The wanting is…no, I didn’t get that. It sounded clever enough, in your voice, but the meaning passed me right by.’

  ‘It wasn’t what he expected, Sam, and he didn’t really know how to control it, and he was so upset when he realised the harm he’d done to you. Anyway, that’s something to think about, but we should be off before he gets back.’

  ‘Yeah. You surely don’t want to be messing about with them fragrant oils, I reckon.’

  ‘No, Sam, you’re quite right.’ She took his arm and they began to walk back to Frenk’s cottage, and his smile seemed too wide for his face.

  Chapter 43 Sleurth

  He swam into the deserted harbour, with not a single ship to be found bobbing in its quiet water, and he slowed to a stop.

  There had been a change in the short time since he’d last seen the dock. Then the stone approach to the quays had been empty and clear. Now, the monstrous growth had swallowed up all of the buildings, green and black and menacing as it seemed to reach out over the water for him.