by Jim Galford
Barely able to take her eyes off Asha, Ilarra ran back outside while Asha snarled and fought harder than Ilarra had even seen Raeln fight. Looking back, Ilarra saw the wildling woman fall under dozens of small figures that clambered over her, nipping and clawing at her as she screamed and continued to struggle. The children were soon joined by adult zombies, coming in from the far side of the tent in a large group. They rushed Asha as a horde, but the woman managed to keep fighting somehow, coming repeatedly back onto her feet.
“Over here,” called out Nenophar, appearing near Ilarra’s side. His entire appearance seemed to blur as he moved, startling Ilarra. “We need to leave right now. She won’t last long against them.”
“We can’t leave her!” Ilarra pleaded, grabbing Nenophar’s arm and tugging him toward the tent.
“And I can’t save her. I’ll explain once we’re safe,” he countered, raising his other arm high in the air.
“I won’t go without her,” she argued, wiping at the tears that covered her face. “That’s my mother…please.”
Ilarra felt the world whirl around her, the cold winds battering her as she experienced a brief falling sensation. When she opened her eyes again, she stood in a dark cave lit only by a dim strip of sky and stars at what appeared to be the cave entrance.
With a grunt, Nenophar collapsed beside Ilarra, holding his head.
“What did you do?” demanded Ilarra, sliding slowly to the floor of the cave. “We need to go back…”
Nenophar shook his head and pushed himself to a seated position, his body and clothing both shimmering and blurring like they had back at the tent. He seemed dazed, but Ilarra could see no injuries on the man.
Rubbing his head, Nenophar replied, “You are alive. What more matters, Ilarra?”
“Are you a monster?” she screamed at him, grabbing Nenophar’s shirt and pushing him against the wall of the cave. The struggle to keep her sobbing at bay in the tent was now a lost cause and she punched Nenophar’s chest weakly as she cried. “That was my mother! Take me back! I’ll die with her if I have to!”
Catching her wrists, Nenophar held Ilarra away, looking genuinely confused. “Why do you cry for this? You are unhurt. Her pain is not yours.”
Ilarra yanked a hand free and slapped Nenophar as hard as she could. “She was better. She wasn’t trying to kill me anymore. We could have saved her…”
“No, we couldn’t,” Nenophar replied, touching his cheek. “I could feel her struggle to regain her mind when I came looking for you. Her thread had one last chance to help others and I gave that to her. She was proud to make that sacrifice, Ilarra.”
“Do you feel nothing? What if it was your mother out there?”
Nenophar continued to look baffled by the questions. “If she was my mother, I would either fight beside her if that would win the battle, or flee if that was the prudent course of action,” he admitted. “I am sorry…I did not understand how this would affect you. There is much I don’t understand about your people, it seems.”
Ilarra curled into a ball and began openly weeping, thoughts of Asha and her father’s happier times in her life intermingling with the horrific death of Asha at the hands of the very children she had helped raise.
Sliding closer on his hands and knees, Nenophar lifted Ilarra’s head with a finger, the skin around his eyes crinkling in confusion. “I do not understand this,” he told her, wiping away a tear. “Her thread is ended. Many thousands of mortals die every day. Why does her ending sadden you so much more than the others?”
“I knew her…I loved her,” Ilarra told him, feeling hopeless. The man, whatever he was, clearly did not understand her and might never understand. “If I knew the others who died, I would cry for them, too. Don’t your people care about others?”
That seemed to startle Nenophar and his hand dropped to his side, his expression shifting to something far off for a moment. “We do care, but we cannot let ourselves feel sorrow over mortal lives,” he said eventually. “I would not have agreed to try and help you if I did not care at all. One who sees the fabric as a whole cannot allow themselves to feel anything when a thread ends. We would weep for our entire lives.”
Taking Nenophar’s hand in hers, Ilarra asked, “You promised to try and help me. If you fail and I…if I end up like my father…”
The suddenness with which Nenophar’s grip on her hand tightened surprised Ilarra.
“I swore I would do whatever I could to prevent that for the sake of a friend and the fabric itself,” he said with a touch of resolute anger. “You will not be lost. If you are, the things that would happen…Ilarra, my people need you to survive and stay as you are, not as another Turessian.”
“And if I did become one?”
Nenophar’s features softened into the saddest expression she had ever seen on his face. “Then I would weep for you, my people, and the world. You cannot imagine what will happen if I allow that part of the prophecy to come to pass.”
“Then tell me. Tell me why any of this matters.”
Nenophar pulled his hand away and stood up, unsteady and using the wall for support. “Fighting your father took much out of me and I still did not truly destroy him,” he told her once he was on his feet. “Traveling like that drains much of my strength when I am fresh, but fighting him made it far more difficult. I need to rest. I have spent much of the last month searching and too little of it resting.”
“Month? You were with me most of the last month in another cave…”
“Ilarra,” he cut in firmly, “the enchantment was cast wrong. You nearly destroyed yourself and traveled not just to the wrong location, but to the wrong time. A month has passed since you left the mountain peak. I had no way of knowing where, when, or if you would come out.”
Ilarra stared at him in the dark, trying to make out his expression without success. Numb acceptance was all she could manage. “Will you be able to keep me from becoming like my father?” she asked at last. “Raeln will end up like Asha, if he lives that long…I need to know he won’t have to go through that.”
“Untended to, yes, that is your fate. The master of the Turessians will probably have you kill him as soon as he can force your hand. So long as I can keep watch over you, I can slow it indefinitely. With Raeln so far away, he will not immediately feel your decline, but it will slowly wear on him. If he dies by your hand, you are both lost. If he dies on his own, I’m not sure even I can hold back the influence of the Turessians for long. Days…maybe a week. Then you will give in to the desire to destroy, and raise armies to serve your new master. You will either kill or drag me to him.”
“Their master. Who or what is he?”
Nenophar shrugged. “My understanding is that he was a man intending to help his people. He gave up his life to serve them and lost his humanity in the process. Now, he is more like my people, seeing only a goal and caring little for what must happen to others to get there.
“In the first war,” he continued, “Their master kept himself hidden and we did not know he was the one in charge of the rebellion. He called himself the ‘Puppet Master,’ though I did not understand why until he resurfaced a few years ago. His ability to control the Turessians when he wishes is a power I hardly understand.”
Swallowing down a lump in her throat, Ilarra asked, “What are you, Nenophar?”
The man’s white smile showed even in the dim lighting of the cave. “You don’t need to know more about me than that I am quite good with magic,” he explained, patting her arm. “For now, I need you to remain here. You will be safe while I rest in another part of the cave. Please wait for me. I’ll be back after dawn and we can decide what to do next. We have much to talk about, but not now.”
“You want me to stay here in a dark cave, miles from civilization, without you even sticking around to keep a watch? This isn’t like the quaint little furnished cave we stayed in before.”
“Yes, you must. Promise me that you will not go anywhere. If you stay right h
ere, I can assure you, you will be safe from anything looking for either of us.”
Ilarra felt a deep desire to pout, but knew with Nenophar, it would do little good. Instead, she nodded and agreed.
“Thank you, Ilarra. I will be back as soon as I can. Rest until I return. You will need your strength in the days ahead.”
Pulling away from her, Nenophar slowly walked toward the darker part of the cave and soon she could not even hear his footsteps.
The darkness soon seemed to creep up on Ilarra, the faint creaks and clatters of the cave making her jump. She sat down and tried to close her eyes, but every noise made her flinch and look around, expecting child-sized teeth near her face. Sometimes in the dark, she could see shadows that looked like Asha’s fur patterns and Ilarra would cry for a long time before she could control it again. Other moments, she would think about her father and wonder at the lack of tears for him. She always came back to seeing the monster he had become. She could not pity the man so long as he continued to cause pain like she had seen. Anger gradually overtook her sorrow, driving her to find her father and destroy the creature he had become.
She soon lost track of time. Her mind drifted in and out of consciousness. Occasionally, she thought she saw daylight beginning to appear, but the next time she woke, it was dark again.
Pulling her knees up under her chin, Ilarra waited, staring at the dark passage until her eyes hurt and her mind begged her to sleep. She knew it was a pointless effort and stood back up, hoping if she paced in the cave, she might be able to wake herself up or at least pass the time more easily.
She shivered in the cool cave, slowly becoming aware that while she was still cold, the stones were warmer than the outside had been. She stood and paid more attention to the air flowing out of the cave, and realized the breeze from farther in the cave was much warmer, with a faint scent of sulfur. Something burned back in the depths of the cave, the direction Nenophar had gone. Likely, he had some sort of campfire he should have shared with her.
Straightening her shoulders, Ilarra decided she was done waiting. Nenophar said she had to be strong—she would not let him treat her like baggage to be left when he wanted to rest. If he had a fire, she would make him share it. He clearly needed some lessons on manners.
Holding up her hand, Ilarra pulled magic across the pattern in her mind, creating a dim blue light on her palm. A sensation like water pushing against a dam came across the back of her mind, but she forced it down and let her mind calm. She waited where she was until her eyes adjusted, then slowly made her way deeper into the cave, trying not to trip on her still-numb feet.
From what she could see, the cave had been abandoned, aside from the occasional bat and the recent arrival of Ilarra and Nenophar. There were no indications of larger animals using the place, which gave Ilarra some relief, having been concerned about bears, wolves, or worse creatures she had always been told to watch for in such places. Dust and fallen pebbles from the ceiling covered most of the slanted floor, making her pace slower than she had hoped. Even so, the path kept relatively straight, with no side-paths for her to become lost. Always, the warm stream of air poured from the deeper parts of the cave, blowing her hair gently back as she continued.
Soon the narrow tunnel widened into a larger space that Ilarra’s feeble light could not illuminate. The place smelled of something dank, but she had no idea what it might be. Given that there were no other directions to go, she entered the room cautiously, immediately feeling warmer as she cleared the passageway, as if the warmth came from a nearby fire she could not see. Smiling to herself, she looked around for somewhere she could wait out the night for Nenophar’s return.
A faint clatter of movement ahead of her drew her eyes to the deeper shadows of the room, but all she could make out was a huge mound in the middle of the cavern. She saw nothing else near it and decided the mound would provide enough cover that Nenophar would not know she had come farther into the cave. If she were lucky, she might be able to sneak back to the outer passage in the morning before he returned.
Approaching the mound of stone, Ilarra raised her glowing magical light in hopes of finding a smooth spot to settle into for the night. The moment she lifted the light, the entire cave shook as the mound began to move. A second later, a roar filled the whole place, echoing off the walls.
Ilarra screamed as large eyes at least twenty feet over her head reflected her light. Her concentration broken and the light in her hand flickered and failed, leaving Ilarra in utter darkness with whatever was inhabiting the cave.
Ilarra stood perfectly still and hoped whatever the creature was might not know exactly where she had been standing. She strained her ears, but all she could hear was the constant breeze, stopping every so often to reverse and pull air into the depths of the cave.
The warm air was the creature breathing, she realized with horror. The long exhalations warmed the cavern, and now those breaths were aimed directly at her, snapping her hair away from her face each time the creature released another breath.
“I told you not to come down here.” Nenophar’s voice echoed around the cavern, making it impossible for Ilarra to pinpoint it. Another breath warmed her face and hands where her clothing did not cover. “There are many things down here that would gladly kill a child like you.”
Ilarra’s fear faded almost instantly to anger at being called a child. She raised her hand, intending to illuminate the entire cavern with an enormous fireball that would fill the roof of the room she was in, but the magic would not come. She saw the patterns in her mind, but the magic that had always been within reach was gone. Only the faintest trickle of energy appeared at the edge of her consciousness, barely enough to recreate the tiny globe of light she had used before, let alone do anything else.
“You do not understand what I am, do you, child?” the man continued, then the puffs of breath stopped and she heard footsteps approaching. “I am the master of this place. You will not use your magic here unless I wish it.”
Light flared in front of Ilarra, making her look away at its brilliance. The large cavern was fully-lit and empty other than Nenophar and Ilarra. Even the creature Ilarra had glimpsed was gone. Where she had seen it, Nenophar stood glaring at her, appearing unhappy but not as angry as he had sounded.
“I am sorry,” he went on, his expression softening as he moved to block her from going any farther into the cavern. “The curiosity of others often surprises me, though I should know better by now. I will take you back to the area where we entered, where it will be safer for you.”
Ilarra started toward the tunnel she had entered through, but then she stopped. “No,” she said, turning around to face Nenophar. “Tell me what’s going on. I’ve played your games and saw things today I never want to think about again. Please let me know why you are helping…or if you even are.”
The man motioned again for her to continue up the tunnel, but when she did not, he relented, looking very tired. Again, Ilarra saw the strange wavering of his appearance, blurring everything about him except the light he held.
“I am helping you understand your place in all of this because I promised…” he began, sounding to Ilarra like he was reading a script.
“You aren’t lying but you aren’t really telling me what’s going on. People don’t risk themselves and others like you have over a promise, they look for a way out of their promise. You said I wasn’t ready before, but after what I saw today, I’m done letting you tell me where to go and what to do unless you tell me everything.”
“I cannot tell you everything,” Nenophar admitted, his shoulders sagging. “There is still potential for everything to go horribly wrong. Ask your questions and I will do my best to answer honestly.”
“You kept saying that you promised someone. Who knew I was infected, or I was going to be?”
Nenophar smiled and laughed. “You would not believe me if I told you,” he answered. “Suffice to say you were not even born when that man asked me to seek you
out. He was wiser than I give humans credit for, then or now. I did not know it would be you, but you woke my mother and began fulfilling the signs he had us watch for. We saw the fabric begin to bend and tear under the influence of the Turessians, and then you came along…”
“If you won’t tell me what you are or where you’re from…how old are you?”
Scowling, Nenophar shrugged. “I have trouble keeping track of the years. My people do not age like yours. When I rest for long periods of time, I undo any aging I have experienced since reaching adulthood. Give me a moment and I can probably figure it out. It’s not a question I have needed to answer before.”
Ilarra waited patiently as Nenophar thought, wondering at just how old he could be to have to think so long on the question.
Finally, he looked up with a more confident look on his face. “I believe a little more than two thousand five hundred years,” he said, as though that were an entirely reasonable number. “No, that is not right…six hundred.”
“Half the nations that exist hadn’t even migrated to this part of the world…”
Nenophar stared at her matter-of-factly.
“My people were still tribal, living near the coast,” she went on, mostly to herself. “The halflings didn’t even exist. The fae-kin weren’t discovered yet. Humans were savages living like barbarians. Even the wildlings weren’t found…”
“Your understanding of your own history is flawed,” he answered. “There have been human civilizations here for thousands of years. They fell and were replaced by others, as always happens to mortal nations. Most did that on their own, but I must admit I bear fault in the fall of one and that is why I now help you.”
“You’ve been hiding in a cave for all that time? Since before my people came to these lands?”
Nenophar shook his head. “Only since I failed the last man to seek me out. His death began a war that covered many lands. What that man and I learned necessitated my departure from the lands of mortals.”