by Susan Faw
Even though Cayden was on horseback, Brimstone was never far from him and could snatch him from the saddle at any moment. Artio shook her great mane of hair, arguing with herself. No, it was time to push on for the clearing of sacred stones she had erected so long ago. She walled away the tragic events of that day. They belonged to another Artio, another woman, another time.
She stared down at her arms and clenched hands, covered with light fur and grimaced. This Artio, this half-breed godling, seeks only one thing. Revenge. The beauty of her youth was gone. The woman she had been, was gone. In its place was this beast formed from her rebirth. Even if Genii lived, he would see nothing but a monster. It was a blessing that he had died. She no longer cared if she lived on, for she had lost all and being brought back had reawakened the pain of that cursed memory. While suspended amongst the stars, imprisoned by their failed experiment, she had neither felt nor remembered. But in being dragged back to this semi-human body, she was forced to endure the agony of a broken heart and mind once more. This time though, others will feel it too. They will suffer with me for all eternity.
The sun sank toward the horizon where no doubt her sisters were gathering. She yanked her horse’s head around and set off up the trail, the Primordial warriors falling in behind her. They rode silently, following their goddess up the narrow, twisting path.
Revenge will be mine. I swear it on the departed soul of my love, Genii.
Chapter 43
Mordecai’s View
MORDECAI BENT OVER THE SCRYING POOL and examined the scenes that rose into his view. A sheltered pond, encircled by tall trees and waving grasses, graced his sight, and a group of people suddenly launched themselves onto the back of Pegasuses. He tensed involuntarily in surprise then stilled, unwilling to give away the game to his companion.
I know those Pegasuses! Brimstone! And Moonbeam and Sandstone! They are alive! Mordecai could not make out the faces of the people in the clearing as they dodged the flaming tree embers and rock that fell from the sky. But where Brimstone was to be found, Cayden would not be far away. The Pegasus launched into the sky, and two men took off on horseback. The outline of a familiar mountain flashed by as he attempted to follow them in the scrying pool, and a peak wreathed in smoke slid through the image. No! You must not come here, Cayden! Alarmed, he sat back abruptly, breaking contact with the image and drawing Genii’s attention. What is that fool boy doing? Mordecai thought furiously, concern for Cayden straightening his back and causing him to break contact with the pool.
“What did you see, old man?” Genii leaned over his shoulder, but only his own reflection stared back.
“This ‘old man’s’ back is stiff from leaning over a scrying pool. It’s time for a break. We have been at it all day.” Mordecai punctuated his lie by standing and arching his back, then reached up over his head and stretched, letting out a long, relaxing, whistling groan.
Genii pushed him roughly back down onto the stone bench. “Visions, old man. Concentrate on the pool, and continue gazing into its depths. My mistress commands it. You will continue to scry until you provide some useful information.” Genii reached over and rapped sharply on Mordecai’s purple, distended pinky finger with the switch he carried in his hand. Mordecai flinched with pain. “I can stay here day and night. Time does not affect me. You can also stay here day and night. The choice is yours.” He slapped the surface of the pool. As the waters stilled, a vision swam into view of a tall woman on horseback, rushing into the clearing Mordecai had seen before.
Genii gasped and tried to pull back from the pool, but Mordecai grabbed his arm and held him still. “You know this woman?” he rasped, now the one in command. Genii could not pull his eyes from the pool as the woman came into clearer focus. “She calls to your heart. I can feel it. Who is she?”
Genii shook his head and pried at Mordecai’s fingers. “No, I do not know. This is your vision.”
“It is not my vision. It’s your viewing.” Mordecai released him, but Genii could not pull away. He was frozen over the pool, staring at the majestic woman.
“She appears to be half-human. You have seen her before, haven’t you?” Mordecai said softly. He straightened and crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back from the pool, eyes studying his companion’s features. His white-winged brow frowned. “Have we met before?”
Genii’s eyes snapped to his then back to the pool as though afraid the image might disappear, which was a real possibility. “I have no memories beyond this cave.”
“We may not have met before,” said Mordecai, “but I have seen you before, a long time ago.”
This time Genii’s eyes did leave the pool, and the woman vanished. “Where?” he demanded.
Mordecai began to speak, telling him of a time when he was but a child and of events that had transpired in a clearing not far from where they were currently sitting, of a man and a woman in love, but barred from being together forever by a small thing called mortality, of an attempt to circumvent death by binding the life of a mortal to the immortality of the moon, and a desperate attempt to beguile the heavens by a couple in love. Of a battle between godling sisters for the love of the same man and the battle that ensued, and of one godling left standing but bound to the underworld for all eternity in the backlash.
“What is your name?” Mordecai asked in a quiet, still voice, barely more than a whisper.
“Genii,” he whispered back and put his hands to his face feeling the contours, the form he presented as the template of his body here within Helga’s realm. As a wraith, he had no need of a solid form. Yet why he felt the need to project a form, he could not remember. “I have…small patches of memories…that may be what you speak of, but not enough to know it for truth.”
“You would be of the right age in appearance,” said Mordecai. “I was but a small child. But I witnessed the event.” His eyes drifted back to the still surface of the pool. “I think that was…Artio?” His eyes caught the flash of recognition in Genii’s eyes at that mention of the name. “Although how she has come to be in a mortal form again, I do not understand. She is not quite as she was, yet you recognize her, don’t you?”
“Yes.” The single word escaped on a sigh.
Mordecai leaned back over the pool, and Artio slid into view once more. “Well, it seems we are both interested in her, but I think for different reasons.” Artio watched the Pegasus wing away and screamed silently at the air. “I have a suggestion.” Genii frowned at her then passed the gaze to Mordecai. “I suggest we both bind our tongues in relation to this interest. I also suggest that maybe our interests are aligned closer than with your mistress.”
“What makes you think I have any interest in anything outside of my mistress?” Genii hissed, pulling away from Mordecai. His face darkened like a thundercloud. “Helga commands my loyalty, old man, not you, and certainly not some vague vision of a forgotten past. Now, unless you wish me to snap a few more fingers the old-fashioned way, get to work.”
He gripped Mordecai by the hair on the back of his head and pulled it back, stretching his neck as he tilted his face up. His other hand slid into a pocket of his tunic and pulled out a small vial of a dark amber liquid. A cork popped, and he emptied the vial of potion into Mordecai’s open mouth. He continued to stretch his neck, and Mordecai was forced to swallow or drown. He swallowed the bitter liquid then Genii released his head with a shove. Mordecai gagged, leaning over the basin.
“Prophecy, wizard,” commanded Genii. “Show us your visions.”
Mordecai’s vision swam, and the surface of the pool seethed and became a wild red tempest that sucked him into its swirling depths. Events past, present, and future jumbled together, and he was tossed from one event to another without any anchor and with no way of knowing the timeline. The pool was no longer a flat tableau but an angry three-dimensional funnel. The visions came fast and furious, and he cried out as heat washed over him like a wave. Fingers of flame licked his skin and crisped his brows, flashi
ng them to dust on his face. The cry of battle assaulted his ears, and a sea of men and beasts clashed and writhed on the ground below him, the red of the flame surrounding him reflecting off rivers of blood. With a splash, he hit the quagmire, which flowed around his ankles, sucking him down into the river spilling over the edge of a cliff. He grabbed for anything to stop his tumbling progress and the only solid object became another body, and another, and another, until the surface roiled with the dead. With a cry, he was tossed over the edge, and he shrieked as he fell, a sick swooping tickle bringing his stomach into his throat.
The ground rushed up at him, and Mordecai squeezed his eyes shut. Before he struck the bottom, a Pegasus picked him out of the air and flew off with him toward Cathair, following a trail of men. Mordecai gasped and clutched at its mane, squinting down at the remnant of an army, screaming their madness to the plains. Burned farms and looted villages littered their path and ran straight as an arrow toward the heart of the kingdom, toward the capital.
The Pegasus disappeared, and suddenly Mordecai knelt in a tower room beside a Primordial princess, heavy with child.
“Noooooo!” he cried out and squeezed his eyes tight. He could not stand to lose her again, not like this.
When he opened his eyes again, he was in complete darkness. There were no windows, no door, and no light to define the space. He was laying spread eagle on his back with a stone floor beneath him: cold, damp, and hard. He lifted his right arm and was jerked to a halt, inches off the floor. His wrists were encircled with manacles that fed into a set of heavy chains that rattled as he moved his arm. A similar set ran from his ankles. A rat squeaked…or at least he thought it was a rat. He could not remember ever being in such a predicament. He felt a pinch on his toes and kicked out, but the rat did not let go of his toe. It bit down harder, and Mordecai cried out with pain.
“Good, good. Now we are getting somewhere.” The voice floated past his consciousness and was gone.
The scene shifted. A great bone temple, multiple stories tall, glowed as though alive, each of its frescoes flowing with movement. The temple groaned and the earth shook as it lifted from the ground and rose into the air to hover about the tops of the trees. The frescoes writhed and detached themselves from the walls, forming bodies of beasts and people and vegetation that could move under its own power. Blinding blue light shone from the windows like great fingers and stroked the air around the temple. Then two people stepped out onto the balcony at the very peak and walked to the edge of the railing, just as a bolt of lightning struck the temple. The flash of light blinded Mordecai, and he was flung back by the force of the vision, soaring through the air for real this time to land in a heap several feet away from the scrying pool, unconscious.
Genii bent and picked up Mordecai’s wrist in his fingers. A thready pulse beat in it. He scooped up the wizard for the second time that day and carried him off to his chambers.
The scrying pool relaxed, and the surface stilled. Red and blue flames danced across the surface, and then were gone.
Chapter 44
Sheol Animus
CAYDEN’S WILD RIDE through the forest on his spooked mount brought welts and bruises from slapping tree branches whipping his arms and legs as his horse made the shortest possible dash away from the flaming debris. Burnt horse hair still wafted into his nostrils despite the movement of his horse. His horse was also of a mind to put as much distance as possible between him and the flaming forest.
Cayden’s only thought at the time had been that he could not lose his father again, and the safest place for him was on Brimstone. Now he wondered about the wisdom of that decision, but done was done.
As the mountain calmed, Cayden was able to rein in his panicked mount, pulling it to a snorting, shivering halt that allowed Elder Hania to catch up to him. The sides of the horses moved under their legs, great bellows pumping as they pulled in lungful after lungful of air, shaking with exhaustion. Cayden’s grip on the reins did not slacken. His head swivelled as he checked the progress of the Pegasuses in the air. It was just as dangerous to be airborne as galloping through flaming woods as he knew only too well. Memories of another flight flashed across his mind, a flight that had ended in the worst possible outcome. This time, at least, he was well aware of what the flaming balls of rock meant. Helga had a lot to answer for. How dare she disrupt the harmonies of the world? Gritting his teeth, Cayden glared at the mountain. Helga also held Mordecai, he could feel it. The how and why of it, he did not know. What he did know was that he needed the wizard. He had always needed the wizard, and this time, he would do the rescuing; this time he would be the one to spring him from his imprisonment. He could still feel Mordecai’s pull.
“Where are you heading, my lord? Sire? I believe you are the king of Cathair?” Elder Hania gripped his reins as tightly, slumping slightly in the saddle, still weary from his recent abuse.
Cayden’s nodded tightly in acknowledgment, and his frustrated glare swung to the elder and then softened. “I apologize, Elder.” He bowed from his saddle. “You should be safe on the back of a Pegasus and winging your way back to your people.” He frowned again, then his gaze swung back to the mountain. “I am about to pay a visit on a…relative. This is no place for you.” His voice echoed weirdly, as he thought of Helga.
“You would be seeking the goddess who calls the mountain home, the goddess of the underworld. She is called amongst my people Shadow Soul, mistress of the dead.” He nodded as if reaching a conclusion and straightened in his saddle. “I will aid you as I was aiding your sister Avery. You have returned as prophesied.”
“You have seen Avery!” At his nod, Cayden exclaimed, “Is she all right? When did you see her last?”
Elder Hania shook his head. “No, she did not tell me. She was on her way to the Crystal Caves the last time I saw her. She may even be there by now.”
Mordecai or Avery, who should I go to first? Who was the most urgent, the most important? Cayden pondered his choices, knowing that time was short and that possibly the fate of the world hinged on his decision. What was Helga’s plan? Avery was free and Mordecai likely imprisoned. Avery’s soul was free, and Mordecai’s soul was imprisoned somewhere. Cayden prayed that Mordecai had been able to free him from the doll, but until such time as he was sure, he had to secure Mordecai’s freedom, and that meant following the trail to Mordecai to get him back. That meant Helga’s realm.
Elder Hania watched the play of emotions flit across his face. The struggle was a familiar one.
“We are wasting time, sire.” He glanced at the skies and gestured at the sun, low on the horizon. “The day wanes. Time is making fools of us. What is the plan?”
Cayden’s mount danced beneath his hands. “We free a wizard.” His eyes locked onto the hazel eyes of the elder. “Failure is beyond comprehension. To be captured means death…for all. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.” There was no trace of fear in the elder’s steady gaze.
Cayden’s eyes swung skyward. “Then come. Ziona tracks us from the sky, and my father is with her. We will see if four can storm an underworld fortress.”
The elder squeezed the sides of his horse, riding up beside Cayden. “Just curious, have you ever been there before?”
Cayden glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Not even for tea,” he said grimly and urged his horse forward onto the twisting path leading toward the summit of the mountain.
A raven circled overhead and with a sharp cry, wheeled back toward the mountain flapping furiously to stay ahead of the Pegasus on the same path. Gaining the shadow of the mountain, it dipped low over a stovepipe opening on the rocky face and disappeared inside.
***
Helga chuckled, as the raven settled onto her outstretched arm and she withdrew from sharing its gaze, releasing her control over the bird. Come to me, older brother, come. It will be easier to instruct you once you are safely inside and ensconced as my guest. Why, it will be like a family reunion! You,
me, and our dearest sisters once they arrive. How will I ever prepare? I don’t think we have all been under the same roof since we were babes-in-arms. I might even find a place for you in my realm, once the peoples of this godforsaken rock bow in acknowledgment of me.
Helga strode up the hall and called out to Genii. “Genii, come to me. A guest approaches.” She paused at the top of the staircase, listening for his approach. She was greeted with silence. Where was the fool man? She leaned out over the short wall and noticed that the scrying pool below was still and abandoned. She continued along the hall, following its twisting path to the break by the waterfall. Cayden would arrive soon at this spot. She looked skyward. No winged shadow blocked the light. She settled herself onto a bench cloaked in darkness and waited, mulling over what she would say to Cayden when he arrived.
At that moment, Genii appeared, sliding out of the twist of twilight like the wraith he was.
“You called, mistress?” He bowed his dark head.
“Cayden approaches with another man. Prepare rooms for our ‘guests.’”
“As you command, mistress.” He faded back into the shadows and was gone.
Helga pulled out the mystery Soul Fetch and bounced it in her hands, thinking. She had a feeling that the doll was attuned to Caerwyn—Cayden, as he was called in this age.