you lied to us
lied you promised us
everything
everything we wanted we needed
needed you promised
die we will kill you
drink your blood kill you
kill
They swarmed around Aidris as they had around Sophie an instant before, and Jay just had time to think, Well, that solves a big part of my problem, when Callion appeared.
He didn't step out from behind a tree. He didn't come running. One minute he wasn't there and the next minute he was.
He intoned an alien command in a ringing voice; the shape and the sound of the words made Jayjay's skin crawl. They were powerful words rich with the taint of ancient evil. Without understanding them, her mind still formed pictures from them—pictures of a place beyond darkness, of a void and chaos and a brilliant, searching, inhuman mind that hungered for the fruits of evil the way an infant hungered for the breast. It sought out blood and pain and grief and fear; it created them, it devoured them, it moved on to new victims and new worlds.
The brilliant lights were only a part of that mind, but, when Callion spoke, a darkness opened up within the forest—a darkness that was the Abyss.
At some far distant time and in some unknown place, Jay thought, a human saw what I am seeing and named that vision Hell.
Callion stopped speaking. The Abyss hung open and the quick, evil mind within looked out. The Watchers held still, no longer devouring Aidris.
Aidris, unmoving, stared at the rift in the fabric of the forest that opened into infinite darkness.
Sophie backed away, half a step at a time.
Jay, sword in hand, exposed to the sight of her enemies, held her breath and waited.
Callion said to her and to Aidris and to Sophie and perhaps to the thing that watched from the void, "I have been denied the realm I deserve. I have been denied the position of power that is my birthright. I have been rejected by this, my home. Hear me now. I have summoned the Rift, and I claim the services of that which waits. I would have let them scour Glenraven of life, but they could not. If they devoured Aidris Akalan, they would have returned to the Rift, and you and you"—he pointed from Sophie to Jay—"would have won. Instead, I claim by ancient spell and birthright the services of these, the Devourers and servants of the Rift for as long as I shall live. And I give to the Alfkindir Watchmistress Aidris Akalan youth and strength, that she may continue her reign, and with it continue Glenraven's suffering. You will never be Watchmistress of this realm." He glowered at Jay, and sniffed. "Meanwhile, I'll go where I'm appreciated. Writhe in Hell."
He vanished. The Watchers vanished.
And Aidris Akalan, visibly youthful, straight-backed and clear-eyed, smiled from Sophie to Jay, raised her hands, closed her eyes and began to chant.
White light streamed from her fingertips.
Jay charged forward clutching the sword and the dagger, and felt fire explode in her chest. She knew from the pain, the impossible pain, that she should have been dead when it hit and she couldn't understand why she wasn't. The pain got worse instead of better. She went to her knees, screaming, hanging on to the sword, still moving toward Aidris but not fast enough. Not fast enough. But she wasn't dead.
Sophie was at her side, pulling the dagger from her left hand and running forward. How could she? Jay wondered. Aidris's blast struck her, too, but she kept going.
Jay forced herself to her feet, and Aidris screeched, "Die, you Machnan whores. Die! I am Watchmistress."
Sophie fought her way forward, through the blasts of magical fire, and inside of Jay something snapped. The pain suddenly halved itself, though no change was visible in Aidris. Jay ran again, and Aidris's eyes grew wide, and the fire that flew from her fingertips grew hotter and fiercer and still hotter. Jay and Sophie kept charging forward, making progress against the blasts that pounded them back. Closer and closer, close enough that Jay could see the sweat pouring from Aidris's forehead.
But Aidris found strength from somewhere. Her chanting grew louder yet, and the flames blasted Jayjay backward, step by grudging step.
The gate behind Aidris opened and Hultif appeared through it. He too cast a form of fire, but his fire caught at Aidris's clothing and began to burn it.
She shrieked. Her concentration wavered and her attack on Jay and Sophie weakened just enough that they could move forward again. Jay closed the gap first and rammed the sword into Aidris's belly, angling the blade upward and to her right, hoping that an Alfkindir heart was in the same place as a human heart.
Sophie, half a step behind her, slashed the dagger across Aidris's neck, and blood spurted over all three of them.
The fires from Aidris's spell got hotter and blasted higher again; Jay wondered if the Kin wizard were healing herself or if in her death throes she had poured the rest of her life into the magic.
The pain returned, worse than ever, and then, for a single instant it vanished almost completely.
The explosion inside of Jay's skull that followed that lessening of pain flung her to the ground and cast her into darkness and silence.
Seventy-one
Yemus crouched in the rubble of the Aptogurria, digging for Matthiall's body with his bare hands. Yemus was bleeding and his clothing was in shreds and he suspected a broken bone in his left shoulder, but he refused to take time for his own injuries. The Kin was trapped somewhere beneath the stones.
Torrin kept screaming, "What happened? What have you done?" until finally Yemus, not looking away from what he was doing, said, "Aidris is dead. She was about to win, but our two heroes kept at her and kept at her. Sophie—well, Sophie was dead, and I don't know how she came back to life. Jayjay was half bonded to the Kintari I'm trying to dig out. He took some of the blast that Aidris leveled at her, but he couldn't take enough. So I linked him to the Aptogurria, and it began absorbing Aidris's magic."
He found a hand and lifted away the rubble that freed the arm it was attached to. Yemus knelt, found a faint, thready pulse, and turned to his brother. "Help me," he snarled. "One of the saviors of Glenraven lies dying beneath your feet."
Torrin bent over and began clearing debris.
"I don't understand any of this. You were alone. And then you escaped. And now you are back."
"The only thing you need to understand right now," Yemus told him, "is that the backblast of magic from Aidris's death exploded the Aptogurria and sent its walls crashing down on us. We have to save him." He nodded at Matthiall, whose head, bleeding but uncrushed, he had just uncovered. "And then we have to lead the rest of your troops into the Cavitarin Wood against Aidris's forces. I don't know that the guards who are fighting there right now will last much longer without our aid. And they fight to save the life of our new Watchmistress."
Seventy-two
"Please breathe," the voice said again. "Please…please. Take a deep breath if you can."
Jay realized that voice had been talking for a long time, exhorting her to move, to breathe, to open her eyes. She tried to comply, but the pain was terrible.
"Come on, Jay. Open your eyes." That voice was Sophie's.
Jay remembered Sophie being dead; at least she thought she remembered that. And then she remembered the fight with Aidris. And pain. And her sword cut and Sophie's attack with the dagger. And blood.
Aidris…
"Aidris is dead?" she asked.
She opened her eyes in spite of the pain. She was lying on a canopied bed in a huge stone-walled room. The room looked a lot like the room in the Wethquerin Zearn, actually. She wondered if perhaps it was. Sophie stood beside her, very much alive though battered and bruised. She grinned when she saw Jay looking up at her, and bent down and hugged her.
"What happened?" Jay asked.
"We won."
"Yeah, I figured that. We're still alive…sort of."
She gave Sophie a weak grin meant to show that she was joking. "I mean what went wrong there at the end?"
Sophie sai
d, "I'll let Yemus explain it. He wanted to talk with you when you were awake."
A young woman in what Jay recognized as Sarijann livery led Yemus into the room. He looked like he'd been the unpopular referee at an elephant football game, and she wondered if she were as battered and bruised. Sophie helped her sit up and propped cushions behind her.
Yemus pulled a chair up beside the bed and settled into it.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'll be better when I know what's going on."
He nodded. "Glenraven has chosen you as its Watchmistress."
Jay said, "Callion and Hultif said the same thing."
"Yes. Well, Glenraven cannot make you stay, but if you leave, I can tell you that our world is unlikely to have much hope of survival. After the centuries-long misrule of Aidris Akalan, Glenraven has her first breath of hope in the rule of the hero she chose."
"What about Sophie? We both came here."
"You were both chosen as heroes, but not as Masters of the Watch. You alone have some quality that our world believes it cannot survive without. It guided the spirits of the Machnan to you, and now it waits to hear how you will choose."
Yemus looked at her, sighed and added, "And I wait, too. We need you here, Jay. When I sold you the book, I didn't think you were the right one. But you beat Aidris Akalan. In spite of everything, you got through to her and you beat her. You and Sophie." He smiled at Sophie, then looked back to Jay. "And we're going to need you in the future. The Machnan have their magic back, and we think with the alliance you forged with the Aregen and some of the Kin you'll have a chance of leading Glenraven into an era of real prosperity. I don't think it's going to be easy, but I also think that you alone in the world can do it. And the other problems remain."
"Other problems?"
"The Rift is open and the Aregen wizard Callion got away."
Jay nodded. She remembered that.
She leaned back and closed her eyes. She thought of the world she'd left behind. She loved her writing, but that was her one real source of happiness. The rest of her life had been unfortunate at best, and disastrous at worst. And Glenraven still sang to her as it had the first moment she'd seen it. In some way she couldn't understand, it was the home she'd always dreamed of.
"Could I go back and visit Sophie and my family sometimes?"
Sophie looked sad, and Yemus shook his head slowly. "No. As Watchmistress, you would bind yourself body and soul to Glenraven. You cannot leave her any more than she can leave you. In the rites of the Master of the Watch, you become the ears that listen to the voice of this world. And when you speak, her voice and your voice become one."
"I would lose myself?"
Yemus snorted. "If Glenraven had that much control, Aidris Akalan would never have happened. No, your love for the world and her love for you will let you hear what she needs and will keep you from doing the things that would destroy her. You are her choice, Jay. Please don't reject her."
Rejection. Jay thought of another of her many mistakes, her rejection of Matthiall's love. She asked, "If I am Watchmistress, must I be alone?"
"No. You can take a bondmate or an eyra, raise children, have grandchildren."
She nodded. "And what will Sophie say when she goes home?"
"She will say that you died. She will take proof."
Jay looked at Sophie.
Sophie said, "I've known since I got here that this place was going to change our lives, Jay. It's changed mine for the better. I know what I want now. I know who I am again. And I know that I'm a survivor."
"You're my best friend."
"Even if we never see each other again, we'll always be friends."
"I know."
"Find the life you've been searching for, Jay. Take it and don't look back."
"Yes."
And she looked to Yemus. "Yes," she said. "I'll stay."
Seventy-three
The ceremony was simple. Jay stood in a small stone amphitheater and made her promises to Glenraven. She promised that she would love the world and listen to her needs. She promised that she would care for all the people of Glenraven and that she would seek fairness and truth in her dealings with them. She promised she would do her best always, and that she would be kind.
Her promises were not a written litany. They were from her heart, and they were given not just to the world of Glenraven but to its people, thousands of whom crowded the stone rows of the amphitheater, the hill above it, and the grassy knolls to either side.
Then Hultif, Yemus and Matthiall, the three wizards chosen by their people to represent the three-senior races, knelt before her and kissed her hand. Yemus drew blood from her finger and dropped it into a bowl of earth. Then he and the other two wizards took handfuls of the earth and scattered it to the four winds.
And the voice of Glenraven whispered in her heart. Welcome at last, daughter and friend. Finally you can hear me in other than your dreams. Finally we can speak one to the other. I have waited for you for a very long time.
Seventy-four
Sophie was the first to hug her when the ceremony was over. "Good luck," she said. "Be happy."
Jay frowned. She looked at Sophie, wanting to see something other than what she saw. "That sounds like good-bye."
"It is. It has to be. I wanted to see you become the new Watchmistress, and I guess I wanted to know that you were going to be okay, but I need to get back home. I don't belong here. It isn't my world."
Jay wanted to say that she was wrong, that it could be her world too, but she couldn't. She could feel inside of her that Sophie was right, and that Glenraven, grateful as she was to Sophie, knew that Sophie could never belong to her.
"Hug Mitch for me when you get back, will you? And don't tell Steven to drop dead, no matter how much you might want to."
Sophie laughed. "I'd kind of planned on doing that, actually."
"I figured you might. That's why I said something. I've found my life. I don't resent the fact that he has his. I'm just glad I'm not involved with it anymore."
She stopped and swallowed, fighting unexpected tears. "I wish you could stay a few more days."
"I know. But I could never stay long enough to make saying good-bye easier." Sophie nodded at a man who stood on the side of the hill holding three horses. "My guide is waiting."
They hugged, and Jay started to cry in earnest. Sophie did too.
"Best friends are forever," Sophie said.
Jay nodded and caught her breath and wiped her eyes. "Be happy," she said. "And don't forget me."
"Never."
Seventy-five
When the last of the people who wanted to embrace her and welcome her had gone home, Matthiall walked beside her toward her new home, a little house in Zearn.
"You could have taken a castle," he said. "Servants. You could have had anything you wanted."
"I got what I wanted."
"Everything?"
She looked at him. "No. Not everything. I made one mistake, and I need to repair that."
A worried frown creased his forehead. "What mistake did you make?"
She reached out her hand and took his. "I'm afraid," she told him. "I've spent a long time being afraid, and that fear doesn't go away quickly or easily. Please be patient with me. When you said you loved me, that old fear overwhelmed me, and I said I didn't love you."
She stopped and turned to face him, and looked up into his pale, beautiful eyes.
"And I do love you, Matthiall. I do."
Seventy-six
Sophie pedaled out of the tunnel and waved to her guide to stop. She stood staring down at the maybe-Roman road she and Jay had ridden in on, and she felt the cold air sting her cheeks. Winter was coming to the mountains—coming too soon. The cold air matched the chill she carried inside of her.
The guide carried a corpse with him. It was a perfect duplicate of Jayjay's body. Sophie would tell anyone who asked that Jay had fallen off the side of a mountain and broken her neck. The injuri
es to the body would confirm that story.
No one would go looking for Glenraven. The guide told her that after they left it, the ancient road would disappear. Not even Sophie would be able to find it again.
Sometimes there is no going back, she told herself. Jay will be happy. So will I. Only this part hurts, and the pain from this moment will grow duller with time.
I wouldn't change any of this.
She lifted her foot onto her pedal, ready to move on, and a lump in her pocket stopped her. She reached in and pulled out the book.
Fodor's Glenraven, it said for just an instant. Then the letters blurred and ran and faded, and when she looked at it again, it said Fodor's Spain.
That was it. The last of Glenraven's magic was gone from her life.
She waved to the guide, and they started down the last lap of the road home.
Her own magic waited ahead.
Marion Zimmer Bradley & Holly Lisle - [Glenraven 01] Page 32