by Jen Valena
Huldo could barely stand seeing his brother face down on the floor. Tyrsten was broken, and it wasn’t just from the battering he had received in the last hour.
Captain Carnell stood over Tyrsten and warned Huldo and Feron, “We do not know what magic he possesses. Stay alert.”
On any other day, Huldo would have chuckled. He was aware of Tyrsten’s skills. But now—Tyrsten appeared capable of nothing.
The Captain kicked Tyrsten in the side.
He grunted with the sharp pain to his ribs.
Huldo fought his urge to react.
“Magian, who was the woman?” Carnell paused. “Where do I find her?”
Tyrsten didn’t answer. His eyes were still closed.
The Captain picked up Tyrsten’s head by the hair and tried to make Tyrsten look at Feron and Huldo. “These two soldiers saw her. Tell me they lie. I dare you.”
Tyrsten refused to comply. His head dangled in Carnell’s fierce grasp.
“Was her name—Ithia?”
His eyes opened in response to Ithia’s name.
Huldo’s face drifted just past his interrogator’s. Tyrsten peered into his brother’s mind and read the intent to rescue him.
“She was helping me hide—nothing more.”
“You are telling me she was not the one Garrick is after? She was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, doing a stupid thing?”
Tyrsten swallowed his anger. “Yes.”
The Captain kicked Tyrsten over onto his back. “But you are the Sidari that Garrick wants.”
“I thought you want any Magian destroyed.” Tyrsten glared up at the Captain, daring him to kill him before he was delivered to Garrick.
“True.” Carnell punched Tyrsten across the face, leaving Tyrsten’s lip bloody. “However, very few young Sidari are thought to be alive. So you are likely the one he is after. And her.”
Tyrsten’s rage bubbled up inside him. “What does it matter? They killed her.”
Carnell gazed into Tyrsten’s eyes to read his mind. Carnell didn’t have the skills of a Magian, but he sensed the truth in his words. “You truly believe that she is dead. Hmm. Then it may be true. Do you have the ability to sense her?”
“I could, but now, I cannot.”
“Well, then I will find her body as a trophy.” Carnell laughed.
“You will not—”
The Captain kicked Tyrsten in the gut.
Huldo closed his eyes, praying to get Tyrsten out alive.
“Guards, get the chamber ready, we are going to make this Magian suffer.” As the guards scurried up the stairs to the torture room, Carnell turned his back on Tyrsten and said to Feron, “Take a small troop out to search for her body. It should have washed up downriver. Get there before animals destroy it. I will need some proof for Garrick.”
As the Captain spoke, Tyrsten’s torment boiled inside him. Tyrsten couldn’t bear to imagine her broken body handled by Carnell and Garrick.
“Do not touch her.” Tyrsten struggled to sit up.
“Magians no longer tell me what to do. Your reign is over. You will be just conscious enough to watch as I drag her body in here and—”
“No!” Tyrsten’s howl echoed against the stone walls.
The Captain drew his blade and bent over Tyrsten. “No? I am in control here.”
Tyrsten shivered from rage.
Carnell pressed the knife against Tyrsten’s neck and drew his face close. He sneered, “You are done, just like that woman.”
At the last second, Huldo sensed the energy that had built up around Tyrsten. He quickly pulled Feron to the ground.
A shock wave burst from Tyrsten’s body—the Captain’s blade flew backward and sliced its owner’s neck.
The Captain collapsed lifeless.
Huldo drew his own blade to cut Tyrsten’s restraints.
Feron stopped him. “Leave them on.”
“What now?” Huldo asked.
“We will inform the guards that Captain Carnell has been killed, and we must take Tyrsten to Garrick.”
A guard’s footsteps echoed down the stairs.
Feron whispered to Tyrsten, “Pretend to be knocked out.”
Feron’s order was unnecessary. Tyrsten was unconscious.
A guard charged into the room. “What happened?”
Feron answered, “Captain Carnell tried to interrogate the prisoner. The Magian made the Captain turn the weapon on himself. We are taking the prisoner directly to Garrick, posthaste.”
“Why you?”
“Because our original orders are from Garrick, himself, to bring this particular Magian to him,” Feron said with authority. Then he asked, “Do you have any potions on hand to keep him unconscious?”
“Yes, but I am not sure how it works on his kind.”
Feron acted frustrated with the news. “It will have to do—for all our sakes. Prepare a horse for the Magian’s body.”
The guard ran from the room, eager to comply.
They carried Tyrsten outside and placed his limp body on the horse. Then Huldo retrieved their own horses.
Feron took the bottle of sleeping potion from the guard. “Tell the second-in-command that we have taken the prisoner to Garrick and to speak of this to no one. In all probability, we have spies here who will betray us.”
“Then take the hidden passage, behind that false wall between the cart and barrels, sir. If there are those among us that want to undermine Garrick, they will be less likely to see you leave that way.”
“Good idea.” Feron nodded at the soldier.
Huldo grabbed the reigns of Tyrsten’s horse. They made their way to the exit.
After passing beyond the gates, deep into the forest cover, they sighed in relief.
Huldo and Feron jumped from their horses. Huldo, impressed at Feron’s quick thinking, hugged him. “You scared me—how good you were.”
Tyrsten still hadn’t awoken. They propped him on the ground to assess his injuries. Feron cut his binds. Huldo embraced Tyrsten hard, not wanting to let go.
Roused to his feet by the embrace, Tyrsten was almost too weak to stand. “Saving me was in vain.”
“I was not about to let you die in that prison.”
“I have already died—at the river.”
“It is true? You cannot sense her?” Huldo asked.
Tyrsten’s eyes reddened and tears fell. “She is gone.” He doubled over, sick with the loss. He staggered.
Huldo held his brother steady.
Tyrsten breathed hoarsely and grabbed Huldo’s vest in desperation. “And just as horrific, I took a man’s life.”
“It would have never happened if he was not about to take your life,” Feron said.
“No matter the reason. It goes against what I am.”
“You were defending yourself. He drew his blade.”
“There are no exceptions for a death committed by a Magian.” Tyrsten slurred the last few words together and swayed.
Huldo and Feron caught him by the shoulders.
Tyrsten’s eyes glazed over, clouds shrouding their stars.
They laid him on the ground. Huldo cradled Tyrsten’s head. Hot, wet blood matted Tyrsten’s hair and trickled down his back. Huldo discovered three swollen lumps and two deep cuts on Tyrsten’s scalp.
“His injuries are worse than I thought.” Huldo went slack-jawed at all the blood.
A silence fell over Tyrsten.
Huldo spoke to him, but the words were muffled in his ears.
Tyrsten watched as Huldo’s face now rapidly distorted. Then a gray fog filled the corners of his vision. He heard a shout from Huldo that pierced the muffled sounds for a split second. Before he could comprehend that it was his name being called, his world went black.
✹ ✹ ✹
Tyrsten, as his spirit animal, Raven, searched for Ithia down the river’s path. Circling high above, he spotted a form that didn’t belong to the rocky landscape. He circled a little lower. It was her body—lifeless a
nd limp. Wet hair lashed out across her pale, gray face cutting lines like cracks in broken porcelain. Her dress was stained with blood. Her foot rocked to the will of the river’s eddies.
He did not want to remember her this way. He would not circle closer. He could bear the sight no more.
✹ ✹ ✹
Ithia’s cold body lay on the muddy shore, her ghostly face inches from the gentle splash of the river. Stillness covered her with a smothering blanket. She didn’t move even to take in a breath.
The shadow of a bird’s flight passed overhead. Was it a vulture circling?
Breathe.
Ithia coughed out a mouth full of water. She opened her swollen eyes. Staring right back at her were the glistening orb-like eyes of a giant, green frog.
To check her own voice against reality, she said faintly, “I’m not going to give you a kiss.”
A laugh, and then a gravelly voice said, “Given up on romance altogether then?”
“What?” She tried to move, but couldn’t.
“Be careful, your body has been through a lot.”
“Who are you?”
“I gave you the idea to jump in the water.”
Ithia’s body shivered as the winter’s breeze hit her soaked clothes. Her nose stung. “I don’t know how brilliant that idea was. And what are you?”
“You can answer that.”
“Another animal spirit?”
“See, you had it in you. Since I am you, I should know.” It croaked a giggle.
“Was that the darkness Jaguar said to embrace?”
“You have to sacrifice everything willingly in order to gain.”
“What did I gain?”
“Here.”
“Great.” Ithia glanced around her. “I’m lost. And what about Tyrsten?”
“It is time to learn some things on your own.”
“Am I being punished for what I wanted?”
“There are no punishments except the ones you impose on yourself.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” She gathered enough strength to push up from the mucky sand. “What now?”
“Follow me. We don’t want to be late.”
“I hope I’m not going down into a hole, too.”
“Silly, holes are for rabbits!”
“So, what’s your deal?”
“You do not have a guess?”
“Dumb decisions, like jumping into raging rivers?”
“Ouch. No. I am transformation, the elements, and a pinch of ancient mysteries in there for good measure.”
“And you are of both Water and Land.”
“Oh, good. You are getting it!” Frog hopped along ahead of her. “Existing in more than one plane and the between.”
Ithia struggled to follow Frog a dozen yards away from the river as he guided her to a pile of leaves for insulation. Fatigue overcame her. She collapsed.
“You can stay warm enough here.”
Ithia was awakened by Frog’s words in her mind. “Someone is coming. I must retreat within you now.” As he said this, he jumped, falling into her heart. Her body rippled as a pond with a pebble tossed into it.
“Oh no, dear one, are you able to walk?”
Ithia recognized the lilting voice and tried to focus on the face coming toward her. “I’m not sure. Everything hurts.”
“We will take you back to our site.” The healer, Samara, and a second woman each took one of Ithia’s arms and wrapped them over their shoulders.
Ithia did her best to keep up with their steps. “How did you—”
“Shh. All will be explained.”
“Samara, we’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Ithia let out a weak laugh.
“It is becoming our custom.”
“Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but—” Ithia’s legs threatened to buckle. “I wish I wasn’t always incapacitated when you see me.”
“I am sure it will not always be the circumstance.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. I have a nasty habit of getting into trouble. Haven’t you noticed?”
“I have.” Samara squeezed Ithia’s hand in affection. “We are almost there. You will be able to rest.”
“I can’t. Garrick is after me. I put you in danger.”
“This is the safest place for you. And where you are meant to be.” Samara was able to state things in such a way that Ithia had no other choice but to concede to her authority.
Ahead of Ithia stood a pair of five-foot tall tree stumps. On top of each stump, seven river stones were stacked with progressively smaller sizes.
“What are those?” Ithia asked as they passed between them.
“Cairns. They mark the territory, encircling the land from the ridge to the North, the river to the East, the hill to the South, and the valley to the West.”
As Ithia traversed the ingress, a sense of comfort enveloped her, like being held by a loved one.
Samara took Ithia into one of the small houses and laid her on a large, wooden table. She inspected Ithia’s numerous wounds. Ithia had survived better than the men had believed, but scratches covered her face and arms. The few deep cuts stung, exposed to the cold air. Red blotches were scattered over her flesh where bruises would soon appear.
“You have not suffered any broken bones, which is fortunate. The worst of your injuries is the arrow-graze on your shoulder. You were blessed to survive your water journey as well as you did.”
Ithia shivered, her teeth chattered. She blanched as her abrasions began to throb. “Ooo. Lucky me.”
“Let us get you out of these clothes.”
Samara removed Ithia’s shredded clothing, that was soaked with water and blood.
“Just don’t leave me naked for random men to ogle me while I sleep.”
“You need not worry. There are no men here.” Samara smiled as she wrapped a blanket around Ithia. “This is a women’s gathering.”
“What for?” Ithia pulled the blanket tight. “And how did you know I’d be by the river?”
“Your arrival was foreseen. You will meet the one that visioned your arrival soon—when you are ready. For now, let us take care of your physical being.” Samara gestured to the silver pendant around Ithia’s neck. “I am surprised that you did not lose your medallion in the river.”
“I guess the chain is strong.” Ithia touched the metal. She believed Samara sensed the chain was given by Tyrsten.
The pale-eyed healer said, “Some links cannot be broken.”
✹ ✹ ✹
Ithia woke up the next day on her own, sore yet mobile.
Her room was tiny but comfortable, made of hand-built earthen walls. She indulged her urge to touch the burnished clay. A feeling of being grounded bolstered her spirits as if the walls were anchored miles into the earth.
A narrow, vertical slice of window let in a morning glow. The view was of a thick forest surrounding the small settlement with hearty pines and deciduous trees. It was difficult for Ithia to assess how many structures there were since each buildings’ outer walls were camouflaged with sticks and brush. Two women sat on stone chairs outside, meditating. One of them was Samara. Ithia shuffled outside of the modest cottage and around to the women.
As Ithia approached, Samara patted an empty seat. “Join us, welcomed guest.”
Samara’s movements were so graceful. Ithia wanted to master at least one gesture as elegantly.
Samara introduced her companion, “This is Jemma.”
Jemma’s slick, black hair and olive complexion were a stark contrast to Samara’s pale features, but a fitting complement.
“It is an honor and a blessing to meet you,” Jemma said, as if she were singing the words.
Ithia blushed. “I’m honored to be in your company. As far as being blessed by my presence, you might want to rethink that. I am trouble.”
“As I said before, you are safe here,” Samara reminded.
“I wasn’t safe at my last hideout. This isn’t any better, no offense.”
“This is a sacred place. Only the Women Sages know of it. It is protected by a magic even those of knowledge do not understand, and Garrick does not know of its existence.”
“Our energetic patterns are masked here,” Jemma said. “We are safe while we are within these boundaries.”
“But for how long?”
“We are here for one moon cycle.” Samara pointed to the sky. “It is the dark of moon tonight, we stay until the next one passes.”
“I can’t stay here that whole time.”
“Mother Urica has seen it.”
“Is that the seer you mentioned yesterday?”
Samara nodded. “You will meet her soon.”
“Tyrsten must be worried.” Ithia squeezed her hands together. Her wounds smarted, and she quickly stopped. “If he is alive.”
“He is not your concern, dear one.”
“I need to know if he is all right. There has to be a way to contact him.”
“You should not attempt to communicate outside these boundaries. Your focus needs to be on your path now. Situations will sort themselves without your active involvement. To reach out, even with your spirit self, would be unwise and may reveal your location to your hunters.”
Ithia sighed and gave up. “Why are you gathering? And how many women are here?”
“The numbers of the gatherings have dwindled over the years. Now twenty-eight meet. During this time, we will hold the Sacred Ceremonies. You have come to be initiated.”
“I have?”
“If you had lived in our world, you would have been initiated early on, trained and guided. You would have participated in the rites of passage to accept your Womanhood and nurture your uniqueness. Unfortunately, we have to keep our traditions and our knowledge secret now.” Samara stood up and began to show Ithia around the encampment. “The men also have ceremonies to acknowledge their transition into Manhood. A few of your generation were blessed with that gift from their teachers.”
“Tyrsten, Huldo and Feron?”
“Yes. Their families are part of the few that held onto the old ways.”
“What happens to those that don’t have that?”