BRYTE'S ASCENT (Arucadi Series Book 8)

by E. Rose Sabin

  The mound quivered, the ground split open, and the three of them tumbled into the chasm. Everything became dark, and Bryte was sure the ground had swallowed them up. Someone screamed.

  Bryte landed on a hard, flat surface, smooth and cold as marble. She heard the others drop down beside her.

  They were not, as she had expected, in a cavern; they were sprawled on a polished black onyx floor in a well-lighted chamber. In front of them two steps rose to a dais that held what seemed to be a throne. And seated on the throne was the strangest creature Bryte had ever seen.

  He was immense—three or four times the height and width of a normal man. His bearded face frowned down at them, but his eyes, which were startlingly blue, were twinkling. His muscled shoulders and arms were bare, as was his chest except for a thatch of dark hair. Beginning at his waist, a thick coat of hair covered his lower body; his legs narrowed to hoofed feet like those of a goat.

  “So, at last we meet face to face, young Bryte,” the creature said in a booming voice that echoed throughout the chamber.

  Too frightened to speak, she continued to gape at him. Lina released Oryon’s hand and got to her feet. “Who are you?” she demanded. “Where are we and why?” She sounded brave, but Bryte’s acute hearing easily picked up the slight quaver in her voice.

  “Do you really not know where you are?” the being asked, and Bryte was certain now that laughter lurked behind his words.

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t have to ask,” Lina retorted.

  “People often ask questions to which they know the answers, sometimes because they do not wish to accept what they know.”

  “It’s—we’re back in the Dire Realms.” Oryon’s declaration startled Bryte. His voice was flat and low. He sat slumped over, not looking at the being on the throne.

  “You are, but the Dire Realms are more varied than you realize. You will not see here those who tormented you on your previous visit.”

  So Oryon and Lina hadn’t lied when they’d told Bryte they’d been in the Dire Realms. She hadn’t really believed them because she hadn’t believed in the Dire Realms, but there was no denying now that they were real.

  The Dire Realms were known as the realm of the dead. Had they died? Or was this, after all, some horrible dream?

  “It is no dream, young Bryte,” the being said, apparently reading her thoughts. “You are here, but only as a visitor. I’ve taken an interest in you because of your frequent visits to the nexus between these realms and your world.”

  He meant the mound. Oryon and Lina had been right about it, too.

  “So what do you intend to do with us?” Lina asked, still putting on a brave front that Bryte did not think fooled the being for a moment. “And who are you?”

  “I am, as you no doubt have realized, a Dire Lord. I mean to solve your dilemma and set you a task.”

  “Dilemma?” Lina repeated, frowning.

  “The matter of how to save yet protect yourself from the young man who has once again been so foolish as to involve himself in those whose powers he did not understand.” He looked down at Oryon, and as if unable to resist, Oryon raised his head and met that gaze, which was now totally devoid of humor.

  “You know what was done to you?” the Dire Lord demanded.

  Oryon clamped his lips together in a struggle not to answer, but the words seemed dragged from him: “I only know I have to obey Lord Inver no matter what he makes me do. I can’t feel anything.”

  The Dire Lord nodded gravely. “He has taken your soul, and until it is restored to you, you are no more than an instrument of his will.”

  “He has it in the box—the box I bought in the bazaar.” Oryon’s voice had dropped to a whisper.

  “What did you do to Stethan?” Bryte demanded. “Did you kill him?”

  Oryon shook his head. “I took him to Lord Inver. I don’t know what he’s done with him.”

  The news chilled Bryte even as it restored her hope. “Do you know?” she asked the Dire Lord.

  The Dire Lord gazed down at her. “I cannot see his fate,” he said. “I know only that Lord Inver must be stopped. That is the task I assign you both.” He nodded at Lina and Bryte. “I will keep your friend here, where he can do no more harm. If you defeat Lord Inver and find and bring me the box containing Oryon’s soul, I can restore him so that he may return to your world. Otherwise, he will remain in the Dire Realms forever.”

  Oryon’s gaze dropped; his shoulders sagged.

  The Dire Lord continued, “Bryte, you may attempt to rescue your brother, but your primary mission must be to destroy Lord Inver. He is a danger not only to you and your brother but to all those who are gifted with special powers. Those powers, be they good or evil, come from the Dire Realms, and Lord Inver is hindering the will of many of us Dire Lords. We want him stopped.”

  “Surely you have the power to stop him yourself,” Bryte dared to say.

  “I have power, but I may not use it directly. I have suffered much because I meddled in human affairs. For long years I was chained and forced to do the bidding of a human man, and even now, when I am free, he draws my power to share with those you call the gifted.”

  “The Power-Giver,” Lina breathed.

  “He is called that now,” the Dire Lord agreed. “Once he was known as the Mage Alair. That story need not concern you. I’ve told you the task I set for you. I will send you back to your world, while Oryon remains here.”

  Oryon groaned.

  “You will see him again,” continued the Dire Lord, “only if you succeed in defeating Lord Inver and recovering the box in which Oryon’s soul is imprisoned.

  “Bryte, to you I say, learn the power of three.”

  Bryte started to ask him what he meant, but before she could, the chamber went dark, she felt suspended in nothingness and assaulted by a cold so intense that she could not breathe. Fortunately it lasted only a moment. With a jolt she felt there was ground beneath her feet, sunshine warming her face, and a breeze bearing to her ears the normal sounds of the flats. She opened her eyes and saw she’d returned to the mound, Lina at her side.

  They scrambled down to where Master Onigon and the Widow Kipley stood, staring up at them.

  Bryte was happy now to see them. She and Lina would need their help. But she could not speak, could not describe the experience she’d just had, and Lina, it seemed, was having the same difficulty. To Master Onigon’s questions they could only shake their head.

  Not the Dire Realms again! Don’t leave me in the Dire Realms. I’ve already died here once. NO! NO … No … no … no …

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  KANRA EXPLAINS

  Back in Master Onigon’s shop, Bryte tried to tell of the experience in the Dire Realms but found it impossible to describe adequately the sensation of power that had radiated from the Dire Lord. She had been so focused on him throughout the encounter that she had no idea what the chamber had looked like in which the Dire Lord had received them. She’d seen no more of it than the polished onyx floor. Even the throne on which he’d sat had escaped her notice. Was it plain or ornate, wooden or plated in gold, cushioned or bare? The Widow Kipley was eager for details, which Bryte could not supply. The Dire Lord had consumed her attention.

  The others still acted angry with her for having run to the mound. They blamed her—blamed her! —for getting them involved with a Dire Lord.

  “But he’s on our side!” she protested. “He solved our problem of what to do with Oryon, didn’t he?”

  “Solved it!” Lina exploded. “What do you think it will do to Oryon to be back in the Dire Realms?”

  “He’ll be safe there,” Bryte insisted.

  “Safe!” Lina scoffed. “That’s all you know about it.”

  “The Dire Lord seemed, well …” Bryte couldn’t find the words for what she wanted to say.

  “Seemed nice?” Lina persisted sarcastically. “Friendly? Sweet?”

  Bryte mustered her dignity. “I was going to say that he seeme
d to want to be helpful.”

  “Helpful!” Lina snorted. “What he wants is for us to do his dirty work. He has the power to topple Lord Inver. Don’t think he doesn’t. But he sent us to do it. And if we don’t succeed, he’ll keep Oryon in the Dire Realms forever. Is that helpful?”

  Bryte bit her lip, trying to think of something to say. She wished that Master Onigon or the Widow Kipley would say something—or even Kanra, who had returned to Master Onigon’s shop ahead of the others. Instead, they all seemed disposed to let her and Lina battle it out by themselves.

  “We’ll get Oryon back if we do what the Dire Lord wants.” It was all Bryte could think of to say.

  “Yes, if we destroy Lord Inver. Do you have an idea for doing that?”

  “No, but we can think of something.”

  “Hah!”

  “Well, I didn’t understand what the Dire Lord said about the power of three, but there are five of us. Isn’t that better than three?”

  “Dire Lords like to speak in riddles,” Lina said. “And are there five of us?” She looked at each of the other three in turn. “Are you willing to help?”

  That was the question Bryte had wanted to ask. Lina had been brave enough to raise it.

  “We’ve been opposing Lord Inver in our own way for a long time,” the Widow Kipley said and fell silent.

  “You do not understand our situation,” Master Onigon put in. “We’ll help you all we can, but if we expose ourselves, we put many others at risk.”

  “So what you’re saying is ‘Don’t count on us,’“ Lina observed acidly.

  “I didn’t say that,” Kanra said quietly. “I’ll help.”

  “There are three of us, then,” Bryte mused. “The power of three. Maybe this is what the Dire Lord meant.”

  “And we’ll help ye how we can,” the Widow Kipley said. “I gave you the power net, after all. You may keep it. That’s a great sacrifice and the best help I can give ye.”

  “Where is it?” Lina demanded. “Bryte, what did you do with it?”

  Bryte’s heart lurched. The net, rolled into a tight ball of thread, had been clutched in her hand when they had plunged into the Dire Realms. She didn’t recall opening her hand, but in the terror of that transference she must have done so.

  “I—I don’t have it,” she said. “I must have lost it. In the Dire Realms.”

  Lina’s face flamed. Her fingers curved like talons, and Bryte feared she was about to shapechange. “Little fool!” she fumed. “How could you be so careless?”

  There was nothing to say. Bryte felt terrible enough without Lina’s berating her. The power net had been the best tool they had and could mean the difference between success and failure at the task the Dire Lord had assigned.

  “Maybe—maybe I dropped it on the mound,” she offered. “I can go and search there.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Lina said. “I want that net.”

  Bryte saw no point in arguing about which of them should have possession of it. Neither of them had it at present, and Bryte had scant hope of finding it.

  Master Onigon and the Widow Kipley neither tried to detain them nor offered to accompany them.

  Kanra went with them to the mound and, to Bryte’s surprise, climbed it with her to hunt for the power net, while Lina remained below. They searched through loose sand and stubbly patches of weeds, behind and under rocks, and in the branches of spindly shrubs. They went over the entire area two or three times while the sun sank closer to the horizon.

  Kanra straightened from sifting through pebbles. “It’s not here,” she said. “We have to face it. I can’t bear to stay here any longer.”

  In her anguish over the loss of the net, Bryte hadn’t considered the effect the mound might be having on the priestess. Kanra was right: the search was useless. The net had been lost in the Dire Realms. It could not be recovered unless their mission to destroy Lord Inver succeeded, and without it they weren’t likely to succeed.

  Lina had followed their progress—or lack of it. She glared at them as they approached. “Just fine,” she said. “That net was the thing I came to Tirbat to find, and now you’ve lost it for me.”

  Bryte wondered at that. Lina had never given her reason for coming to Tirbat. How had she even known about the net before she saw Bryte use it? Bryte wasn’t sure she believed her. But there was no doubting Lina’s fury at the net’s loss.

  “For that bit of stupidity, you’re on your own,” she declared. “Kanra can do what she pleases, but I’m going to find my own way to rescue Oryon and get the power net back. Those are my priorities, not killing or disempowering Lord Inver.”

  “But … But you can’t!. Remember what the Dire Lord said about the power of three. There have to be three of us.”

  “I don’t care what the Dire Lord said,” Lina declared. “I don’t trust anyone or anything in the Dire Realms. I work best on my own; I always have.”

  “Seems to me you worked okay with Oryon,” Bryte observed.

  Lina shrugged. “We got along,” she said too casually.

  “Got along well enough that you want to go off on your own to rescue him,” Bryte said. “You gonna face Lord Inver, get caught, and have to be rescued again?”

  It was the wrong thing to say; Bryte knew it as soon as she’d spoken. Lina’s face flushed. She glowered. “I don’t intend to let Lord Inver take me again. I’m going after that box, but I’ll find a way to do it that doesn’t involve contact with Lord Inver. And I’ll thank you to keep out of my way.”

  She spun on her heel and stalked off. Bryte wanted to follow her and beg her not to go. She wanted to say she needed Lina’s help, wanted to remind Lina that having the box would do no good unless they could get it back to the Dire Realms, and to do that, they had to defeat Lord Inver.

  Bryte said nothing, nor did she follow Lina. Anything she did would only make matters worse.

  She looked at Kanra. “Will you help me?” she asked, fearing and dreading a negative reply.

  “Yes, I will,” the priestess said. “It’s my responsibility to do all I can to rescue Stethan.”

  Bryte set off, walking toward Master Onigon’s shop, asking as she walked, “Why is it your responsibility?”

  Kanra strode beside her and began her tale. “I’m his aunt,” she said. “Betta, Stethan’s mother, was my oldest sister. We had two younger brothers and a sister older than I but younger than Betta. Our parents died, and Betta tried to support us and keep us all together. She got a job waiting tables. It didn’t pay well; we barely managed. One day Lord Hallomer came into the restaurant and saw Betta. She was a beautiful girl, and right away he set out to romance her. At first she wanted nothing to do with him, but he offered her money as well clothes and jewels. She married him, though she didn’t love him. The marriage lasted only a few months before Lord Hallomer sent her away with a generous settlement. Stethan was born a few months later, and Betta sent word to Lord Hallomer, but he refused to acknowledge the child. He probably suspected Stethan might be gifted, since he’d found that Betta was. Lord Inver had ordered gifted children put to death.

  “When Stethan was still a toddler, I made a decision. I loved music, wanted lessons on an instrument, but I’d never been able to justify the expense. The Temple of Mibor provides musical training for its priests and priestesses. Temple service was a way to get the training I wanted and also have opportunities to use that training at the concerts the temple presents throughout the year. When I told Betta my decision, she asked me to take Stethan into the temple with me. I was willing to do that to keep him safe from Lord Inver, who would know from Lord Hallomer that Stethan’s mother was gifted.

  “Betta had a close friend who had given birth to a boy, Corey, about the time that Stethan was born. She had a difficult birth and was never well afterward. Her husband couldn’t care for her and the child, too, so he decided to send Corey to the temple where he’d be well cared for and get a good education. There was no reason to think that Corey wa
s or would be gifted.

  “Betta got the idea of presenting Stethan to the temple under Corey’s name and Corey under Stethan’s, reasoning that both boys would then be safe, Corey because as Stethan he would show no evidence of special talents, and Stethan because no one was looking for Corey to check him for giftedness as they might be for Stethan. “Furthermore, I would be there in the temple to look after both boys and shield the real Stethan from anyone too curious about his background.

  “Stethan’s gift of truth reading was the one gift that the temple staff encouraged, because they could benefit from it. He has other gifts, but I’ve cautioned him not to reveal any but the truth reading and the ability to recognize giftedness in others.”

  Too caught up in Kanra’s explanation to interrupt her, Bryte had waited to ask, “Did he know about the switch and that you were his aunt? And is his mother still alive?”

  “No to both questions. Betta died a couple of years after we went into temple service. The boys were too young to realize what had happened when we made the switch. They don’t remember their mothers or their original homes; they grew up in the temple. So I felt it best not to tell him. Stethan believes that he is Corey and that his friend Stethan was killed. That belief might protect him.”

  That hope was all Bryte had, and she clung to it.

  By this time they’d arrived at Master Onigon’s shop. Day had become night as they walked, and they stood outside in the pool of light spilling from the shop window. A closed sign hung on the shop door, but Bryte could hear Master Onigon and the Widow Kipley talking inside.

  “Why have we come back here, if they aren’t going to help us?” Kanra asked.

  “‘Cause we need money,” Bryte replied. “You got any?”

  “No, but surely you don’t either,” Kanra said. “You plan to borrow some from the moneylender?”

  “Leave that to me,” Bryte said. “Before we go in, there’s one more thing I gotta know. Your gift of making light—is it the only power you have?”

  Kanra hesitated, and when she answered it was with clear reluctance. “I have one other gift. It’s not much use for what we have to do. It did come in handy in the temple, for protecting Stethan.”