The Mirror Sliver (Legends of Green Isle Book 2)

by Constance Wallace

  “Papella is right. Zuya’s conversation with the wind didn’t disclose who these people are.” Ditred adjusted the badge over his eye. “I, for one, don’t relish meeting up with those who aren’t friend.”

  “I understand your concerns. But I’ve made my decision.” The captain knew they were measuring the situation, but in his heart, he felt that going west would be the right choice.

  “Did your conversation with yer friend the wind give any ya any other clues that would be helpful?” Christos asked. There was a small edge of sarcasm in his voice.

  It was the first time Urcias saw Zuya scowl. “You don’t have to play with me. Our tribe lived in and protected the valleys and unicorns along Half Moon Lake for many years. The wind is our friend. There’s no other on this world that speaks with her any more. I’m the last. I don’t play games with the gift.”

  Christos cleared his throat coarsely. “All right. Sorry if I hurt yer feelings. Just frustrated. What else did she tell you?”

  “It’s fine.” Zuya smiled slightly. “I understand. If it helps, she also told me of six riders on horseback who traveled to the fortress. They came from a ship on the other side of the island.”

  The captain turned in surprise. A ship? This could be their escape.

  “Who could that be?” Rufus asked. “Do you think they could be members of the Senate?”

  “I don’t know. If it’s the Senate, then their aim would be to make an alliance with that beast,” Urcias replied. “I won’t allow that to happen. That’s exactly what Queen Adalay was afraid of. Matt, what’s your opinion? Do you feel we should go west? As one of the legendary four, your input is valued here.” The captain regarded the boy.

  Coming from behind Ortho, Matt stood in front of the group of men. His eyes mirrored the grey that masked the landscape. Nodding slowly, he whispered, “Yesssss, if that’sssss where Zuya sssssays they are, then we must go in that direction.”

  “West it is, then.”

  Matt smiled. It was an odd reaction. Urcias contemplated the boy with concern. Had the trauma of his experiences affected him? He gazed at Matt’s eyes in thought. Something wasn’t right about them. He shook his head. He was just on edge. Everything appeared suspicious. He motioned for his lieutenant. “Rufus, make sure we have all the packs dislodged of unnecessary items. We need to move fast to catch up to those going west.”

  Urcias begin to unload his own horse. He was surprised to feel a tap on his shoulder. “Captain? Sorry, but I got to say this.” Christos scratched at his beard for a moment. “Ya know, there’s something ya need to be aware of. Have ya a moment?”

  “Yes. What is it? We need to get moving, so make it quick.”

  “Sir? Have ya not noticed the boy’s gait lately?”

  Looking over the older man’s shoulder, Urcias watched Matt help the other men rummage through the packs. He appeared normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. He seemed to be walking and holding himself well. It was then that the captain understood Christos’s remark. Matt was walking as if his ankle had miraculously healed. There wasn’t any limp. No yelps of pain. Could the boy have healed that fast?

  He nodded. “I see what you mean. Watch him carefully,” he whispered. “Don’t let the others know. I don’t want the boy to suspect anything. You’re in charge of shadowing him. Make sure he doesn’t have a chance to disappear. I want to know who this Matt really is.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The cold floor felt good against her hot skin. She lie still, trying to distinguish the images that flitted across her irises. Colors seemed to run together, forming puddles of light and dark. Where was she? Was this her room at Murias Donn?

  Ceridwyn tried to sit up, but her body felt heavy. Her muscles refused to answer her call to move. What had happened to her? She recalled the fragmented memory of Bera cutting her hand open. The image of her life’s blood slipping from her body remained vivid in her mind. There was also a remembrance of Bera forcing a white liquid down her throat. After that Ceridwyn had fallen to the ground and the room disappeared into blackness.

  In a cloudy haze, she recalled that her body had been moved. The witch had her placed at the base of the large oval mirror. Slowly her sight grew more focused and she could see that she still lay at the base of the mirror. The glass had changed, though. It was no longer silver and reflecting. A small audible gasp escaped her lips as she viewed the hideous horned form looking down at her from the other side of the mirror.

  “Does my face frighten you?” a disembodied voice asked. “I’m not what I used to be, you know. Magic took too much from me.”

  The princess forced her body to turn over. She crawled away from the mirror. Her elbows scrapped against the stone floor as she tried to distance herself from the Black Warlock. She went toward the table. She could feel the power pulsating from the glass. It overwhelmed her senses, its ancient evil drowning her soul.

  “Ah. I did scare you.”

  “I’m not scared. Just surprised,” she whispered. She turned her head, not wanting to face the thing in the glass. Her words came labored from somewhere deep within her and echoed in her mind in a dizzying detachment from reality. The drug the witch gave her muddled her mind. She propped herself against one of the legs of the table and held still.

  “Then why don’t you look at me?”

  Ceridwyn could feel the sweat pouring down her neck and into her leather jacket. “I’m having trouble focusing,” she replied finally. “What kind of drug did the witch give me?”

  “Something for the pain. For your hand. I’m sorry that I had to have you cut like that. I hate for my future wife to be scarred and disfigured.”

  The warlock’s words startled her. Did he just call her his future wife? Was that why her father demanded she bring the horn to him? He promised that demon she would be his wife? Her mind gave way to the realization that her father had made a pact with Uthal and she was the prize. All for power. She had been a pawn. She had been given away in a game of supremacy.

  “No heated reply? Princess?” Uthal chuckled. “You disappoint me. I’ve heard of your spirited nature and was so looking forward to having someone to spar with.”

  “You need not worry, warlock. When this drug wears off you’ll see my spirit,” she exclaimed.

  “Good. I need another incentive to continue the spell. My release and marriage are the perfect solution to three thousand years of torment.”

  Ceridwyn’s stomach churned. “I’m not marrying you. Ever,” she cried loudly. “No matter what my father promised. I’m not tied to Murias Donn any longer.”

  “Unfortunately, my dear, the pact has already been made. The contract has been sealed and the magic associated with it binds you to me for as long as you live.”

  Ceridwyn rose to her feet, her body shaking. She grabbed the end of the table and steadied herself before turning to the mirror. “Then perhaps it’s time for me to die. Because I won’t marry you.” She glared at the warlock. “Magic pacts can be broken. And if I know my father, somewhere in that contract is a clause that will dissolve the agreement. Of course, after he gets his way.”

  “Ah. That’s what I was looking for.” Uthal howled loudly. “Your fire thrills me. So many of them bow down to me. It gets so boring. While your gesture of defiance is appreciated, it won’t do for my plans. Unfortunately, my love, I’ll have to have you drugged again. So sad. I know. But there’s more at stake here than just the spell. And of course, we can’t afford you using your gift of soul collecting, now can we?”

  “You’ll imprison me within myself? What kind of life is that?”

  Uthal’s face disappeared for a moment before rematerializing seconds later behind the silver glass. “Bera? Where are you? Take the princess to her tower and make sure she has what’s needed. There are some pressing things that need my attention at this moment. Some uninvited guests have stumbled upon our doorstep.”

  “As you wish,” the witch’s voice hissed from the shadows.

  �
��I’d like to stay and talk with you more, my dear, but I need to assess the security of my fortress. I must make sure these guests are welcomed in the worst way possible.”

  Hands grasped Ceridwyn’s arms and torso. Looking down, she saw the hideous faces of Bera’s rat men. One of them smiled, causing her stomach to churn even more. Bera’s icy fingers grabbed the back of Ceridwyn’s head and forced her jaws apart as more of the harsh white fluid flowed down into her mouth, burning the back of her throat.

  Within moments, the world began to sway. She fell against the edge of the table and held on. Colors once again became muted. Her world started to fade. But she forced her mind to focus one last time. Before she passed the threshold completely, she carefully grabbed the small knife the witch had placed on the corner of the table. The blade felt good in her hand. She hid it in the secret pocket of her sleeve.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Idril sat quietly behind a large boulder. His feet were frozen as he hunched down watching the front gate of Crag Cairn. Nimi, Adalay, and Olifur were hiding behind another large rock across from him. They decided that they would wait along a path that wound down into the valley. The small road ended directly at the large wooden gate of the fortress and their vantage point gave them a bird’s eye view of the activities.

  Idril regarded the fortress with interest. The immense crumbling structure seemed to guard the landscape like a desolate soldier, shutting out all who were unwelcomed. It oozed death and evil.

  Earlier in the morning, they crested the top of the mountain trail just in time to see six riders on horseback make their way to the ancient castle and disappear into the interior. Adalay and Nimi seemed apprehensive. They recognized the female of the group. Their frowns made Idril question the identity of the woman.

  “It’s Princess Ceridwyn,” Adalay had commented gravely. “The House of Murias Donn must be seeking an alliance.”

  Idril could see that this potential union concerned the woman as well as the elf. “Why would that be bad?” he asked.

  “She’s a dark sorceress from the southern region of Green Isle,” Adalay had responded. “And one of the Shadow People. A clan of ancient druids from Earth.”

  “I don’t understand why they would want an alliance with Uthal,” Nimi said. “All of Green Isle’s inhabitants should be against him.”

  “We’ve been warring with them off and on for centuries. But I think their greatest quest for vengeance lies against Queen Erulisse and the Elf Kingdom. Perhaps that answer can be found in the ancient texts of your people,” Adalay suggested. She raised her eyebrows.

  Idril looked at the border elf, hoping he would provide an answer. The elf didn’t respond right away. “There’s been a misunderstanding since we came through the portals. The Shadow People believe one thing, when it’s another. That’s all I can say about the past. It’s unfortunate that they’ve harbored such ill will for such a long time.”

  Idril didn’t understand any of what the elf spoke of. He didn’t know about the past of this place, much less the disputes and disagreements of the people who lived here. He was still trying to find out about his own past. Squatting, hidden behind the cold rock, he thought of his existence. He was a creature of magic, reborn to Green Isle and made new here. Rubbing the burns on his fingertips and tracing the outline of the shapes burnt into his forearm, he remembered the talk he had with the old woman. His place was on Green Isle, but he knew that soon he would have to go back to this place called Earth. She said it had to be. But the past that haunted him didn’t include magic. He felt that it had been something cold and distant, and it was this coldness he didn’t want to return to, ever.

  Touching his chest, he felt the box that held his wand. Would the old woman’s gift of Ewa be enough to protect him from magic’s call? It would have to be. He wouldn’t let himself give in to the power or the darkness that called beneath the voices.

  “Idril? Did you hear what I said?” Nimi asked.

  “No. I’m sorry. My mind was elsewhere,” he replied as he bent forward.

  “We must make our way closer to the fortress. The rocks will probably be our only protection. We should stay within their sanctuary. At least until we are close enough to the gate.”

  “What then?” Adalay demanded. “We’ll be seen and not welcome. We didn’t take the course you originally intended to the back of Crag Cairn. To some temple or another. How are we to gain entrance under a guarded wall?”

  Olifur shook his fur as he stood up. “I can go in and look for a way for us all to enter. I’ll be undetected. No one would expect a lost dog.”

  “It’s still dangerous even for a lost dog. What if they decide that you’ll make a good meal?” Nimi asked his friend.

  “I could use the magic of the wand,” Idril suggested.

  “No,” Adalay exclaimed. “The warlock can sense it. Especially something as powerful as that relic. We’ll be hunted down and taken.”

  “It has to be Olifur, then.” Nimi looked at his companion. “You’ll need to go in and scout out the walls and guards. See if there’s a weakness anywhere or a hole we can all pass through. Something away from the watchful eyes of the men on the walls.”

  “This is very exciting,” the dog stated.

  “I think I remember a small spell that can help you. You’ll be invisible for about half an hour. Would that be enough time for you to get in and look around?”

  “Yes. Plenty of time,” Olifur replied. His tail wagged as Adalay brought out her crystal.

  “I’ll wait to say the words until later. We need to be closer so you have as much time as the spell allows.”

  “Won’t the warlock know of your magic making?” Idril asked. He thought of her statement about his wand.

  “No. This incantation is much too weak for anyone to feel. Especially him. The wand carries a much stronger energy. It’s an old and ancient force. Besides, mine will be done too quickly for him to pick up our position.”

  “Are you ready?” Nimi asked them.

  Idril and Adalay nodded.

  “Then follow me and stay behind the rocks. I’ll go first.”

  Idril watched as the elf darted forward. His movements shifted in a split second into nothing and then reappeared behind one of the large boulders in front of them. He was fast and very artful at concealment. Nimi motioned them forward. It seemed to last an eternity before they were finally at the edge of the crumbling castle of Crag Cairn.

  “Much bigger up close,” Idril muttered.

  “In the old days, it was the crowning centerpiece to Prince Finley’s reign. Before the Second War with Uthal. Before he found a way through the portals to Be’thasileth and Green Isle. This island had a grand name. But I don’t remember it. I think it was lost along with the memory of what it once was,” Nimi whispered.

  “I could never find information in our library about Black Isle. Except for the fact that Uthal made a home here,” Adalay added.

  “You must come to our library. We have much you can study,” Nimi replied. His eyes lingered over the woman’s face.

  Idril saw some type of emotion passing between the two. It made him return to the only memory he carried with him, that of a snowy night riding on horseback with someone in front of him. The emotion he felt for the person came with the memory. Perhaps he had a place in his heart for another. But that was of a life he didn’t want to claim. And neither did he want to claim the emotion.

  “Shouldn’t you make me invisible now?” Olifur nuzzled Adalay’s arm.

  “Yes. Remember though, don’t talk or you’ll give yourself away. You must be quiet.” She closed her eyes and murmured a small incantation. Her hands glowed as she moved them across the dog’s body. In a few moments, Olifur disappeared.

  “Can you see me?”

  “No. You’re as the wind. Here, but not here.” Nimi chuckled.

  Idril could hear the faint sounds of snow crunching as the dog walked toward the fortress. “You should try to walk on grou
nd that isn’t covered with snow. I can see your paw prints,” he whispered.

  It was agonizing waiting for the animal to return. Along with Nimi, Idril kept peeking around the rocks they had hid behind, hoping to hear Olifur’s paws on the path. He grew anxious thinking about what could happen to the dog should he be discovered. If anything existed behind the stone walls and towers like the Wulvers, he could only imagine the horrific end which might befall his canine friend.

  After what seemed like hours, the young man heard the panting of the dog coming back up the small road. It was just in time. Bits of Olifur’s body began to materialize. “It’s Olifur. He’s back,” Idril said softly to the others.

  “Thank goodness.” Adalay petted Olifur’s head. “I was afraid time had run out on the spell. That you had been discovered. Or worse, captured.”

  “What did you see?” Nimi asked. “Are the towers and walls heavily guarded?”

  “Surprisingly, no. I went inside and walked around. There are two guards at the gate and several along the walls. But that’s it. The courtyard’s empty. Save for those wicked ravens. A brood of them watches the door to the main tower.”

  “Ah. The Black Warlock’s messengers. If they’re here, then Babda isn’t too far away.” Nimi sat back on his heels. “Uthal doesn’t have to place guards on the walls if the ravens are there. Their eyes can see from the roof tops.”

  “Do you think they’ve spotted us, then? Could we be walking into a trap?” Adalay asked. Idril could hear the concern in her voice.

  Nimi pulled at the tip of his chin. The elf remained quiet for a moment. Finally, he looked at Adalay. “Can you mask all of us with your spell?”

  “Make us all invisible?”

  “Yes. We could slip in after the sun goes down. If we make our way closer to the gate, it would give us enough time to find the shadows before the spell’s energy completes itself. Harder for the ravens to notice.”

  “Yes. I can. Although you should be aware that we won’t be able to see each other once the spell is cast. If we get separated, we’re going to have to find one another.”