Sanctuary

by Nally, Fergal F

  More would come in time, but for now, they had given the Magister fleet pause for thought. She had bought time for Luana to find Angel's Landing. Moose would see it through; Ducet had his measure. He was a rock. She knew Willow and Rip would do their best. That was all any of them could do. She smiled to herself.

  Ducet looked down and saw blood on her tunic. With alarm, she tore her shirt open and was relieved to find only a flesh wound. Her first mate had taken the brunt of the grapeshot blast. Not much was left of him; an honourable death.

  Her crew rallied and Ducet threw the Skald into the northern current. It took the rudder and her sails swelled in the wind.

  The old girl had life in her yet. Ducet smiled.

  ~

  Calim Dove thrashed restlessly in his sleep. He had been pacified by the Magisters and did not need much rest. Once every few days he allowed his body the indulgence of a few hours slumber. The past usually welled up inside him during this time.

  However, this night he was disturbed by the present.

  He saw fractured images as if looking into a shattered mirror. Splinters of scenes, feelings and impressions through another's eyes. He caught glimpses of Echo Island, the sea, a pirate vessel. He saw the man, Moose, the girl, Luana and others. He saw Stedfastgate preparing for a siege and he saw the Magisters' fleet.

  He felt a terrible power surge through the Magister ships and knew that thrall magic was in the air. He saw the Magister crew; slaves to thrall magic, its power running through their flesh and bones, animating them. Puppets in its grip. Just like him. Except he had learned to sidestep it, to evade its current.

  To hide.

  Then he saw Angel's Landing through new eyes. A boy, the one called Willow. He felt a story there; sorrow. He saw the engraving on the rock. The circle with the feather within. The archangel's seal. Once the seal was broken, there would be no turning back.

  For the first time something registered in Calim Dove's mind. It felt deeply disturbing. He did not know what it meant, did not know what to do with it.

  Doubt grew and threw his dream into cold shadow.

  ~

  Elias was alone. He had woken that morning, his body stiff, drained. He found himself in a small room on a bed. He blinked and looked at the ceiling, confused. He racked his brain trying to remember. The last thing he recalled was running from the beach, chased by the infected. Damn, they were fast. They had the hunger on them. He had made it to the sea; the boat had been in reach. He remembered diving into the waves and swimming towards the skiff.

  The current had taken him; he was sucked under in a maelstrom of water and flailing arms. Something happened; he was thrown around under the waves and came out of the water like a cannon ball. His mask was gone; he swallowed water and was flung into the arms of an infected that was grappling with the skiff, trying to climb on.

  Elias's impact with the thing's torso almost knocked him out, however a second blow from above did for him. Everything was blank after that. Except…he had seen Luana's face here, in this room. She had spoken to him, held his hand. He did not understand her. Things were blurry. He remembered the concern in her eyes.

  He reached up to his face and felt the scarred skin. So, she had seen his face, had seen the beast. He grimaced, ashamed; inwardly something died inside him. She would never even consider… He let the thought go, pulling on his emotional armour once more. It was familiar, safe. It had got him this far, it would do. He looked around the room for a mask; he had lived with them for so many years. There were no masks. He hesitated, feeling vunerable, not knowing what to do.

  Finally, he sat up and swung his legs out of the bed. He heard a distant booming and listened carefully. Another deep rumble, followed by a series of answering retorts. Cannon fire. A battle raged and was not too distant.

  He stood, a little shaky at first and took a few steps. His legs protested and the room spun. Blood rushed back to his head; he saw stars. He shook, sweat beaded his brow, but he held on to the wall and concentrated on his breathing. His head cleared.

  Elias went to the foot of the bed and found fresh clothes and boots in the chest. He dressed and left the room. He heard a commotion down stairs. Voices filled the air.

  "Ducet's trying her best to hold them off, but it's a battleship and they have thrall magic. We've at the most twenty minutes before their guns have us in range. We need to get to the basement; it's too late for the redoubt. The others went there earlier." A man's voice declared.

  "If they catch us they'll flay us alive, it's what they did to the Black Star's crew. They'll flay us alive, do you hear me?" The woman's voice was fraught, laced with fear.

  Elias appeared on the stair, the man and woman below looked up.

  "He's come around. Look…"

  "Elias, no time to explain. You must come with us…the town is under attack. The Magisters, they'll be here soon, we must hide and allow them to pass through. Then we'll strike from behind and within."

  Elias stopped on the last step and nodded. "I understand." He paused. "Where are my friends?" The word "friends" pleased him as it left his mouth.

  "They've gone, Luana and Moose. One of Ducet's guides has taken them to the interior, to Angels Landing," the woman replied. Her companion gave her a strange look.

  Elias caught the glance. "What is it?"

  "Nothing, it's just…I'd rather take my chances here than get mixed up with the Fey," the man declared.

  The woman looked at Elias. "They say the archangel is from the days of Faerie. That time is dead and gone and should stay that way."

  A loud boom followed by a nearby explosion shattered the windows and brought down a beam in the entrance hall. The woman cried out in fear. A few seconds of eerie silence filled the air. A high-pitched ringing gripped Elias's ears. He picked himself up from the stairs and went to help the man and woman below. They were covered in debris but were unhurt.

  "Let's go," the man shouted. They looked into the next room and saw flames licking at the curtains there. They went out to the street and found a few people running towards the landward side of town. They followed suit.

  Elias felt weak, his muscles had not been used for a while; they were stiff and painful. The town was taking a pounding and was now within range of the Magister guns. A battleship, Elias thought. That was bad news, it could carry over a hundred men and if they had thrall magic it would be a blood bath.

  His mind raced as they fled through the streets. He had seen men flayed alive before. At Nictiam all those years ago, when the Magisters had flayed eight sailors on the docks for so called insubordination. The crowd there had been forced to watch; to what sick end he did not know. He swore that day he would never be taken that way. He would rather die at his own hand than that of a Magister.

  Elias decided he would take his chances in the interior of the island. He would follow the man and woman to their cellar but he would not hide below ground. He would take to the forest beyond the settlement; he could already see the trees behind the stockade wall. He would be at home in the forest; his element.

  They arrived at a large building in the warehouse district of town. Some of the buildings were on fire; thick smoke billowed through the narrow streets.

  "Come on," the man gesticulated for Elias to follow. "We can hide underground." He did not wait for Elias; instead, he took the woman's arm, pushed her in front of him and entered the building.

  Elias looked around frantically. He heard more cannon fire ripping through the night sky. He gazed up and saw stars looking down impassively from above. The wind brushed his face. A blast went off nearby catching him off guard; he was blown to the ground. Dust and rubble sprinkled him; the world was plunged into silence. He reached up to his ear and felt slick warmth.

  The dust partially cleared and he saw the blast had blown a hole in the stockade wall. He rose and made for the gap. The trees beckoned. He ran and discovered his old strength. It welled up inside him; his confidence returned. He would survive, he woul
d know what to do, he had been hunted all his life; they had never truly caught him.

  Elias ducked through the rubble and the shattered stockade wall to the clearing beyond Stedfastgate. He became a shadow amongst shadows and disappeared into the line of trees.

  It was good to be alive.

  CHAPTER 16

  Angel's Landing

  Luana looked at Willow. "How are we supposed to get up there?"

  Rip barked and nudged her leg.

  "I've no idea. My job was just to bring you here, which I've done. I thought you'd know what to do next." Willow looked disappointed. Then his face brightened. "The hunting's good around here," he offered, his eyes twinkling.

  Luana glanced at Moose. The big man was staring at the massive wall of rock. None of them could see a way up. The rock was vertical and grooved in uniform columns. Rain and erosion had only served to make it more friable and treacherous.

  "Let's walk around it, maybe we'll find something," Luana said, her voice uncertain.

  They set off, counter clockwise around the sheer face. Rip's barking increased and the dog ran back to their start point.

  "What's got into your hound Willow? He's gone crazy!" Luana said.

  "Rip, come here boy! Stop fooling around, we ain't got time for games." Willow let out a sigh and went after his dog. He almost reached him when Rip ran off again. Willow cursed. "Well if you don't come with us, we'll just leave you behind."

  "Wait." Moose said.

  Luana looked at her friend. Something was troubling the big man.

  "What is it Moose?"

  "The dog's not playing. He's trying to tell us something."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Look, he's leading us to that grove of trees. Let's just humour him for a bit. Maybe he's found something."

  Luana shrugged. "Lead on Moose. I'm right behind you."

  Moose and Willow strode ahead following Rip. The dog barked excitedly at the trees to the south of Angel's Landing. The sun broke through the clouds; something glinted from within the grove of trees.

  "What was that?" Luana asked.

  Moose and Willow had seen the reflection too and moved in closer. They disappeared into the grove. Luana followed.

  She blinked twice, her eyes adjusting to the gloom. She saw Willow and Moose standing beside a large stone at the centre of the clearing. A ray of sun had glinted off some crystal inclusions at the top of the stone. Rip was beside it; tail wagging furiously.

  "What is it? What've you found?"

  Willow shrugged. "Just an old stone, there are a few scattered here and there around the island. They're pretty ancient. Supposed to be from the time of Faerie. I always try an' keep away from them. Best leave 'em undisturbed."

  Luana came to the stone. It was shoulder high and was made of the same rock as Angel's Landing. It was streaked with moss and lichen. She reached out, touching it. She knew it was important. She fell to her knees and started scraping at the moss.

  "Help me. Clear this moss off. I need to see what's underneath."

  Moose and Willow looked at each other, then knelt down and started tearing at the covering of moss on the ancient stone. After a few minutes, a thick pile of moss lay on the ground beside the stone. Luana's hand stopped, her eyes widened.

  "There it is! Look, what's that?" She pointed for the others to see.

  An outline had emerged from the rock where her fingers had prised the moss away. A circle was clearly visible with a shape within its confines.

  "Help me clean it up. Use the water."

  Moose opened their water bottle and poured some of the liquid on the surface of the rock. It glistened and more of the moss fell away with their efforts. Luana stopped and took a few steps backwards. She stood, staring at the carving for a few moments.

  She sucked her breath in. "It's a feather. A feather in a circle. This is it. This is the resting place of the archangel Rafael. This standing stone is a sign."

  "Well what do we do with it?" Moose asked, his face perplexed.

  Luana approached the stone again and fell to her knees. She frantically explored the stone etching with her fingers and hands, searching for something, anything that might tell her what to do. Her face was locked in concentration. Rip's barking reached fever pitch.

  "It has to be here, it has to be." All the tension and frustration of the last days and weeks had led her here to this stone. Luana felt helpless and cheated. What could she do? How could she find a way to read the message the stone was trying to give her?

  In desperation, she reached for her sword and scraped at the carving with her blade. Her muscles tensed and a rage built up within her. She would not be defeated by ignorance, by darkness. She was so close.

  "I don't think you should do that," Willow said, his voice frightened. "That stone's from the time of Faerie, it's got… memory."

  Luana was beyond Willow's warning. In a fit of frustration, she lashed out at the stone feather with the pommel of her sword. Sparks flew from the impact; she heard a crack and blinked. Her sword was undamaged. She looked back at the standing stone.

  She had smashed the carving. The stone feather was broken in two and a hole had appeared in the surface of the rock.

  "Look what you've done. We should leave," Willow's voice shook.

  Moose came up behind Luana and peered over her shoulder. "There's something in there."

  Luana dropped her sword and put her hand into the hole. Her fingers explored the opening and closed around a handle. She pulled sharply. A deep rumble came from beneath their feet. The earth shook and the trees in the grove swayed, their branches rustling. Rip stopped barking.

  The noise stopped, silence returned to the glade. Birdsong filtered back to their ears from the forest. A cool breeze rustled the canopy above.

  "What just happened?" Luana asked.

  "I dunno, I'm not waiting to find out." Willow backed away from the stone, turned and ran back the way they had come.

  Luana looked disappointed and stood up. She brushed her hands on her tunic. Moose picked up the sword and handed it to her.

  "Here, here! Look…you gotta see this. Quick!" Willow's excited voice reached them from beyond the grove.

  They rushed to join Willow; their eyes took in the scene. A narrow defile had opened up in Angel's Landing. It led upwards towards the summit.

  Luana looked at Moose and nodded. "It's steep, but we can climb it."

  "Let's go," Moose replied.

  Willow stared and said nothing. Rip was already picking his way through the lower reaches of the defile.

  They entered the defile and began climbing. Soon they were on all fours. In places, Luana could see the remains of carved steps; mostly however the defile was shattered rock. This rocky staircase had ceased long ago to function as intended.

  "Keep close, this rock is unstable," Luana shouted. She picked her way up the slope, stopping frequently to let the others catch up. After an hour, they arrived at the white marble summit. Luana reached up, pulled herself out of the defile and lay panting on the top.

  She closed her eyes, allowing her heart to steady. Her limbs felt heavy from the exertion; she heard the others flop down beside her. Rip had disappeared ahead some time ago. Luana did not want to move; she lay there exhausted. A boom echoed in the distance. Luana's eyes snapped open and she sat up.

  "What was that?"

  Moose stood up and followed her gaze to the horizon. The view from the top was stunning. They could see all around the island and out to sea. The forest stretched in all directions below them. Another boom came from the horizon.

  "It's them," Willow said. "They've come. Ducet said they would."

  "Magisters," Luana spat the word.

  "They've come to take us and destroy Stedfastgate." Willow's voice sounded small.

  They heard a bark and turned to see Rip trotting towards them. He came to Luana and licked her face.

  "What is it boy? What have you found?"

  They stood up and s
tarted to explore the summit plateau. The white marble was smooth and flat. It was polished and mostly unaffected by the weather. The summit was the size of a small village. Rip barked and ran over to the centre of the plateau. He stood there and barked again.

  "This dog of yours Willow, I swear he has some sense of this place."

  More booming came from the sea, this time Luana saw cannon flashes. "We'd better find something and soon, our time is running out."

  They went to Rip and looked at where he stood. He was barking excitedly. Luana looked puzzled. "What's so special about here Rip?" She looked at the dog with interest; he had found the standing stone. She was sure there was something about this spot too.

  She looked at the marble and saw veins of dappled colour infuse the rock. Then she saw it; a slight indentation in the surface of the marble. She dropped to her knees and pressed her cheek to the cool rock, looking along its surface.

  Luana placed her hand over the indentation, closed her eyes and used her fingers to read the rock. Her fingertips found the impression of a human hand there. She let her flesh settle into the cold stone and held her breath. She increased the pressure on the marble and felt something open inside her.

  Moose looked on and knew Luana was on to something. Willow knelt beside Rip and held the excited dog. They both blinked when Luana vanished from sight. Moose ran to the spot and pressed his face to the rock as he had seen her do. He saw nothing.

  "What just happened? Luana, where are you?" Moose whispered.

  For once, Rip was silent. Willow's mouth hung open. Even the booming coming from Stedfastgate could not penetrate their disbelief.

  Luana opened her eyes and found herself in a cave. The walls were dimly lit from within. She stood up, took her surroundings in; there was an opening and she went through it. She followed steps down a spiral staircase hewn from the rock. The steps were polished smooth.

  She arrived in a dark chamber deep within the structure. She allowed her breathing to steady, her nerves to settle. She knew she was nearing a breakthrough. She was close. Her eyes could not penetrate the darkness. She held her hand in front of her face and saw nothing. So be it, she would close her eyes and let her hands and feet do the seeing.