by Cathi Shaw
Weylon groaned and then got to his feet and collected the dishes without arguing. Brijit found herself smiling in spite of the discouraging conversation.
Later, when she settled in her bed for the evening, that smile was still on her mouth. The conversation over dinner, while a bit dark, had brought her and Weylon closer together. They had more in common than she had originally believed and the thought lightened a weight that had settled on her heart. She had the feeling that Weylon Forborrow and her were on their way to becoming something like friends.
#
The village where Ana had died with her baby was the last “civilized” place they had seen. They moved deeper and deeper into the wilderness of the western realm. Weylon was glad he had burned the map when he did. He sensed that the Elder knights remained close to them now and, after Brijit had insisted on his help with the birthing of that halfling child, he had noticed on more than one occasion Beriadan watching the two of them with distrust in his eyes.
The first night after the child had died, Brijit told him what she had discovered at the Academy. He was surprised that she had been suspicious of her instructors for months before she’d left. He’d had his doubts about Gregor and had pushed him but hadn’t doubted his mentor in the same way Brijit had hers.
When Brijit shared what had happened at Merryville, Weylon understood. The fact that the townsfolk had killed that child the same way Bellasiel had killed the infant in the nameless village, and had done so supposedly under Elders’ orders, put a chill in his heart. But the fact that Brijit’s mentor had refused to discuss what had happened with her, and had forbidden Brijit to tell anyone what she had seen, was even more troubling. Clearly the Elders did not want Coimirceoirí apprentices knowing about the mark or the Prophecy. Or hadn’t wanted them to. That seemed to have changed now. Neither the knights nor Bellasiel had seemed concerned that Brijit and Weylon had witnessed the killing of the marked child. They had just wanted to make sure neither of them told others about the incident.
Weylon had never heard that any Coimirceoirí were mentioned in the Prophecy before. He wondered if the Elders had obtained a more complete copy it, and if he and Brijit were somehow implicated.
Because an intact version of the text had never been found, it was believed that one did not exist. As Weylon understood it, all the Elders had was bits and pieces of the writing.
If a complete version of the Prophecy ever was found Weylon could guess that the Elders would be very invested in it. A complete copy of the Prophecy would change life in Séreméla and all of Five Corners. He was sure some of the Elders would not welcome such a thing.
If the princess was carrying a girl-child, then both her life and that of her child could be in danger. That combined with the prospect of the lost text of the Prophecy being found meant they were in for some very turbulent years.
Weylon looked over to where Brijit was sleeping. She was moaning softly in her sleep. His brow furrowed. Brijit had told him about the dreams that she had started to have several months ago. They were complex and frightening, and she didn’t know what they meant, if anything. Weylon didn’t believe in dreams meaning much of anything. He thought the magik wielders put too much stock into such things. He believed what he could feel and touch, not abstract things.
Still he didn’t like to see Brijit so upset. Since the incident with Ana and her baby, Brijit had been dreaming more and more. She had woken up screaming almost nightly, and Weylon had noticed that it was becoming more and more difficult for her to fall asleep at night. She rode silently throughout the day with dark circles under her worried eyes.
As her whimpering grew louder, Weylon moved closer to Brijit. Instinctively he reached out and began to rub her back. “It’s okay, Brij,” he murmured softly, knowing that she was fast asleep and wouldn’t be able to feel or hear him. But after a few minutes her restlessness ceased, and she fell back into a deep sleep.
Weylon forced himself to move back to his side of the fire. He couldn’t let himself develop feelings for Brijit. To do so would take his attention off his duties as Coimirceoirí. And yet he couldn’t deny that he worried about her. The more he learned of her, the more he realized how important she was to the Elders, and that scared him for her sake. He had started to wonder if the “fact” of him being the most gifted Coimirceoirí in half a century hadn’t been planted to take the attention off Brijit. Her gifts as an empath were stronger than any he had ever seen or heard of. And yet there had to be more to make her so valuable to the Elders. But what it was he couldn’t say. As he watched her sleep, he couldn’t help wondering if there were secrets she was still hiding from him.
#
Brijit woke feeling more refreshed than she had in days. She looked over to where Weylon was packing up his belongings. No matter how late she fell asleep or how early she woke, he always seemed to be up before her.
And she had not been sleeping well. The farther they traveled from the Academy, the more Brigit’s dreams were filled with dark shadows and growling animals, the likes of which she’d never seen before. The previous evening had been the first good night of sleep that she’d had since leaving the house where Ana and her child had died.
“Did you sleep well?” Weylon asked, his brown eyes filled with concern.
Brijit nodded and hurried out of her sleeping roll. She began to pack up her things. The Elder knights would arrive at any moment, and she wanted to make sure she was ready to leave. They never said much, but on the few occasions when she had still been in her sleeping roll when they had arrived, they had loomed over her, making her feel vulnerable and exposed as she packed up her things.
Having finished cleaning up their camp already, Weylon came over to help her with her packing.
“No bad dreams?” he asked, his face creased with concern.
Brijit shook her head. Surprisingly, her night had been calm and peaceful, free from the nightmares that had been plaguing her.
Weylon smiled, his brown eyes lighting up with relief. “Good, you needed the sleep.”
Brijit felt her cheeks heating. Weylon had been smiling more and more lately. Really smiling. She hadn’t thought it was possible when she’d first met him, he’d been so growly. But they had become much more like partners since Ana’s death.
She’d also noticed that Weylon was protective of her. Once she had thrown aside her act of ignorance and Weylon had opened up to her, things had shifted between them. This hadn’t gone unnoticed by the Elders, who now watched them with suspicion and a hint of disapproval. Brijit didn’t care. The more she discovered about the Elders’ world, the more she realized she needed an ally.
She didn’t trust the Elders at all. She couldn’t help feeling that both Weylon and her were pawns in a game they didn’t understand. She knew Weylon felt the same way.
After Ana’s death, Brijit told him about the letter she had found and what it had revealed about their journey. She also told him what Serena and Elsa had overheard. Weylon’s expression had darkened when Brijit mentioned the Prophecy. When she asked him about it, he had told her all he knew about the strange religion some of the Elders followed. Part of Brijit was fascinated to hear about this part of the Elders’ culture that she had been unaware of. But another part of her was irritated by the omission of this knowledge by the Academy. Clearly, there was much Brijit still had to learn about the Elders and their world.
Shaking her head, Brijit realized she’d been lost in her thoughts. Without a word, Weylon had saddled her horse and was tying her saddlebag behind her mount.
Brijit walked over to him and smiled apologetically as she stroked the horse’s neck. “I’m sorry. I seem to be slow at getting going this morning.”
Weylon smiled down at her and reached out and touched her cheek. Warmth rushed to where his fingers ran over her skin. Brijit refrained from leaning into his hand. “It’s okay, you needed the rest.”
She looked up him, noticing how handsome he was now that he had dropped the st
ern mask he had been wearing for so long. He was looking down at her, and Brijit was surprised at the emotion she saw in his eyes. She lifted her shielding completely and sent to him her feelings. But he didn’t look surprised, he already knew how she was feeling about him.
“Brijit,” Weylon stepped closer to her, bending his head.
Brijit instinctively raised her chin and closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to touch her own. But instead he pulled away, stepping around her.
“We are ready to go.” Weylon’s tone was gruff and distant as he spoke to the Elder knights who had appeared on the side of the camp.
Brijit’s cheeks heated and her heart pounded. Had the Elders seen them? She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. Coimirceoirí were forbidden to have relationships. If the Elders had arrived and caught them kissing, she didn’t know what would happen. Weylon walked past her to get to his horse, his eyes meeting hers. They said everything. Be careful, Brijit, be careful.
#
The farther west they traveled, the wilder the land became. For the last two days they had been riding through a dark and overgrown forest that had a sinister feel to it. The trees seemed to close in on them. At times Brijit felt as if the very air was being sucked from her lungs.
Instinctively, she stayed close to Weylon throughout the trek through the black trees. The ground was a dead gray color, and the air spelled faintly of sulfur and rot. The small animals, that had been numerous in the woods at the start of their journey, had all but disappeared. The deeper they went into the dying woods, the more nauseated Brijit felt. Her stomach protested continually. Even the thought of food made her retch.
The supplies they had collected at the market by the inn were all but gone now. Weylon had boasted of his skill in hunting at the beginning of their trip, but he had not caught any fresh game for the last day and half. They were surviving on the roots and fruit that Brijit had collected before they entered the dying wood, along with the last of the dried meat and cheese Weylon had bought before they left the village.
The Elders disappeared into the dying trees more and more, leaving Weylon and Brijit alone.
“I hate this place,” she said to Weylon on their second night making camp.
He looked around and then came and sat near her on the log he’d moved near the fire. Their fire itself had been difficult to light with all the wood saturated with the mist that never seemed to disappear. After Weylon had coaxed it to life, it had still flickered weakly in the damp air.
Brijit found herself inching closer to Weylon, her body automatically craving the heat that seemed to radiate from him. He reached out and put his arm around her shoulders and Brijit gave in to her need for human contact, letting her head fall to his shoulder.
“We must be in the heart of Jirgen Forest now,” he noted.
Brijit remembered where the forest had been drawn on the Elder man. She wondered how much farther it would be to Tèarmann.
“What do you know of Tèarmann?” she asked.
Weylon shook his head. “I believe it’s an ancient Elder fortress. But I thought that it was just a ruin now, not an inhabitable building.”
The Rift had been clearly labeled on the map, along with the Dead Sea. Brijit remembered that the fortress was on the very edge of The Rift.
“Do you still think that’s where we are going?” she asked.
Weylon stared into the dying forest around them, considering. Then he nodded. “It makes sense. It’s the only thing between here and The Rift itself.”
Brijit shivered as she looked at the dying trees surrounding their camp.
“Nothing can grow here. It is an extension of The Rift.” Weylon said before pausing and looking around. “Rumors are that the evil from The Rift is oozing into the land. The Elders don’t know how to handle it. They are taking their commands from the council, but what they need is a real leader. That’s why the birth of the child the princess is carrying is so important. If it is indeed a girl, as the whispers have proclaimed, then she will be the next ruler of Séreméla.”
“And how will a child save Five Corners from The Rift?” Brijit asked looking around at the desolation that surrounded them.
Brijit could feel Weylon shake his head as she rested her own aching head on his shoulder. “I don’t know. But the legends say the girl-child will save her people.”
Brijit nodded. She had heard similar stories told at the Academy. While the instructors were never up front with what the Elders really wanted, there had been the History of Elder Society classes, and everyone knew about the Elders’ desire for a girl ruler to take up the legendary Queen Aibhilín’s mantle.
She remembered how brutally the Elders had killed the child in the village and wondered if the royal child could be in as much danger. It seemed a strange thought, but at the same time it was not outside the realm of possibilities. Nothing was as they knew it. And the farther they traveled from the Academy the more Brijit knew she didn’t understand the land she had grown up in – at all. Looking around her now, it was clear that this forest would never recover from the sickness that engulfed it. Pain exploded in her head, as it had been doing off and on all day. She lowered her head to Weylon’s shoulder and closed her eyes.
“Do you have any idea what the Prophecy they speak of contains, Weylon?” Brijit tried to remember what the letter she had read had said, but she couldn’t.
Weylon sighed. “I thought it was just another rumor. I didn’t even know if it actually existed. But the story I heard says the Elders supposedly have several scraps of an old parchment that predicts the future.” He snorted. “I don’t particularly believe in fortune telling, but some of the Elders give credence to the whole thing. They believe it religiously – so much so that they have been prone to violence in the past when confronted with their beliefs.”
Brijit’s stomach suddenly cramped and she bent forward, her breath taken away.
“Are you all right?” Weylon’s voice was filled with concern.
“I’m just not feeling very well,” she whispered.
She knew Weylon was studying her closely. “Again. This is happening too much, Brijit. You need to eat something.”
Brijit felt bile rising in her throat. She had the urge to pull away from him, but then he started to rub her back gently and the motion comforted her in a strange way. “No,” she said weakly. “I don’t think I can.”
“Here I’ll put your roll near the fire at least. Then maybe you’ll warm up a bit.”
He set about making a bed for her as close to the weak flames as possible.
“Lie down and perhaps you will feel better after you rest.”
Brijit lay on her side, curled in a ball, praying that the cramps would go away. She’d not felt so sick since she was a child of eight and she’d eaten some berries her grandmother had collected to make medicine with. Her grandmother had laughed at her and scolded her at the same time.
“You’ve learned your lesson, child. Thankfully the sickness you feel will pass soon. If you’d eaten those mushrooms,” she’d pointed to a pile of fungus she’d also collected, “I’m afraid I would have lost you.”
But Brijit hadn’t eaten anything in the last twenty-four hours and before that it had only been the food that she had prepared herself with supplies they had obtained outside the Dead Zone. She didn’t understand why she was feeling so ill. She had tried to combat the cramps with ginger root, but the herb had done little to ease her suffering. For some reason she felt it was important to hide her condition from the Elders, which had made traveling even more miserable than usual.
Weylon sat on the log keeping watch over her.
After an intolerable hour, the pains eased a bit.
“Have you tried shielding yourself?” Weylon asked suddenly.
Brijit looked over at him blearily. Since she had shared what she knew with Weylon, she hadn’t felt the need to shield herself. Why would he even suggest such a thing?
“This place is filled with e
vil. Surely you can feel it.”
She nodded. The darkness in the forest was overwhelming.
“You are so open, Brijit, like a sponge. Have you considered that the powers that are draining this place might be having the same effect on you?”
Brijit thought about it. She supposed it might be possible that what was killing the vegetation and driving the animals away was affecting her. But the thought of shielding herself against her setting seemed overwhelming, and she was so weak she didn’t know if she would have the energy to do so.
“I don’t know,” she whispered truthfully.
“Are you well enough to try the centering exercise?”
Weylon had showed her how to focus her energy inward, thus blocking any outward influence. While she was gifted at shielding, she rarely practiced any exercises to help her with it – she had never needed to. Weylon had told her about the grounding and centering work they had engaged in at Stone Mountain. Curious, Brijit had asked him to walk her through one of the exercises. She was surprised when she found that shielding came even easier to her after she had finished the exercise.
Even though she was weak right now, too weak to attempt shielding herself from her setting, Brijit nodded at Weylon’s suggestion. She had to do something if she was going to get through this forest to the fortress on the other side. She didn’t know how long she would last if the nausea didn’t disappear. Slowly she sat up.
Weylon reached into his pouch and pulled out a crystal she had never seen before. She looked at him questioningly.
“I was given this by my old teacher when I was very young. Focusing on it will help you to gain control. It’s a talisman, something to ground your meditation.”
Brijit nodded and stared at the blue-green crystal Weylon placed on the blanket before her. Then she began breathing deeply.
She tried the visualization he’d shown her before. Creating a crystal bubble around her that was impermeable by any outside influence.