Taeben sighed loudly, his previous rage now all but deflated. He placed a hand on the top of Ellie’s head and ran it down through her white hair. “We are the same, in many ways, my dark flower,” he murmured. “What a triumph you might have been. What an amazing sorceress and…more.” Ellie resisted the urge to throw her arms around him and beg him to take her with him, wherever it was that he was going. “In another life, perhaps. But for now, I concede your point is valid. I have learned much in this world, and it would be a waste to lose my knowledge to the Void when I am gone.”
“A'chrya, please, if you will not let me help you, let me continue your work?” Ellie asked, her eyes shining with tears. Taeben smiled down at her. “I am not the wizard you are, not by any means, but I swear to you that I will study your journals and do my best to continue what you have started. If you should…disappear from our world, your brilliance will live on. I swear it.”
“You…swear it?” Taeben said, raising an eyebrow as something clearly dark and malicious entered his mind. Ellie looked up at him quizzically. “You would swear an oath to me, without limitations?” She nodded though she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Taeben took her hands in his. “Elspethe Turlach, you must swear an oath on your blood that you will carry out my wishes and see that my research does not fade away upon my death. Will you do that for me?”
Ellie nodded enthusiastically. “Of course I will, A'chrya! You have but to give me the words to say, and I will so swear.” Taeben smiled down at her again and then reached into one of the small packs he had concealed within his robes and removed a knife. At the sight of the blade, she clamped down on the hold she had on her arms, but still could not make her body stop trembling.
“It is all right that you are afraid, dark flower,” Taeben said, his words forming a cocoon of comfort around her. “I will do my best to make this quick, but it will be uncomfortable. Do you change your mind with this knowledge?”
“No, A'chrya.” She had nothing to lose. “I am resolute.”
“Good.” He held out one of his slender hands toward her. “Your left arm, please?” Ellie took a deep breath and placed her wrist across his palm, wincing as he grasped it tightly. “Open your hand, Elspethe,” Taeben hissed. She obeyed and nearly cried out as he drove the point of the knife through her skin before dragging it across her palm, tracing the lines there with a bloody trail. “Your blood is not bright red, like mine,” he whispered, smiling in wonder as the line of dark blood coursed out of her hand and dripped over his fingers. “Now, to the oath. With the blood you spill here, do you swear that you will obey your A'chrya now and after I am gone from this world in death?”
“Yes, A'chrya, I so swear,” Ellie said, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Good.” Taeben raised the knife and punctured her skin at the opposite side of her palm, then drew it across her skin until there was a bloody X across her hand. This time she did cry out as the two wounds met in the center of her hand. “Silence!” Taeben barked at her as he gripped her wrist, causing the blood to spill from both wounds. Ellie bit her lip and stared off over Taeben’s shoulder. “Look at me, Elspethe,” he said, his voice markedly softer as her gaze met his. “With this blood, you swear that you will continue my life’s work, both now and after I am gone from this world in death?”
“Yes, A'chrya, I so swear,” Ellie replied.
“Good.” She was relieved that Taeben released her arm, but she dared not move from the position she was in. “One last thing, my dark flower,” he said as he stretched out his own palm toward her. “Keep your eyes on mine, Elspethe.” She held his gaze as he punctured his own skin with the blade, and did not look down to see her dark blood mingling with his. “Ah, these new hands hurt just as much as the old ones did,” he muttered. Ellie did not ask what he meant, though she wondered. Perhaps it was something to do with being dead and in the afterlife. She knew better than to ask questions. “Now, give me your hand again,” he said, and she offered it. Taeben took her hand in his now bloody one, palm to palm, and squeezed them together. Ellie winced but made no sound. Their blood flowed out from between their interlaced fingers onto the ground at their feet, her dark blood mixing with his bright red blood.
“A'chrya, I am…” Ellie felt lightheaded and looked around wildly as darkness began to swim around the edges of her vision. “I fear I may…faint…” She saw the smile twist into his features as her vision blurred.
“You have sworn your oath to me and bound your soul to mine. You have saved me. There is nothing I would not do for you for as long as I am still in this world.”
It was as though she had ceased to be for a while, for all that she could recall. Brought back to the present and after staring at the X shaped scar on her hand for a long time, Ellie rose from the grass, recast her invisibility magic, then whispered the words to a transport spell that would take her to the Outpost. She had a purpose now. She would avenge her mentor’s death! But how? Surely one wizard could not take on the Rajah of Qatu’anari alone. Taeben had proven that to be true already. There was planning to do. Ellie smiled darkly as the spell cast and the familiar circle of fire formed around her. She knew just where to get the information she needed. It would take time without her A'chrya there to guide her, but the time spent would be well worth the revenge.
Three
The Nature Walker’s Residence, Aynamaede
The sun set behind the shining parapets of Alynatalos as Gin sat on the edge of the highest platform of Aynamaede. She leaned back against the wall of the hut belonging to the Nature Walker – her new home in the treetop city – but her mind wandered to night skies above faraway parts of Orana when her life had been so much more simple. Her hand hovered over the pendant she wore, her finger tracing the tiny etched tree that spanned the deep green emerald. Once, not so long ago, the emerald had been inset in the gold of the ring her father had worn—the ring had lost the magic that made it fit the current Nature Walker so Gin’s mother gave it to her father—but Kae had taken the ring and had it made into a pendant for Gin. So much had changed—she was hardly the young druid that left the safety of the forest with Dorlagar so many seasons ago. In the weeks since she returned to Aynamaede as the Nature Walker, her days were spent in meditation. Connecting to the source of her power – the magic of all Nature Walkers gone before her and the All-Mother, Sephine, took focus. She took care of her people and the Great Forest, but she missed Sath, Khujann, and the Fabled Ones. She missed her former life.
Young druids came to her for training, and she did her best to lead them in the ways of the Mother Goddess. The King of the High Elves grew reclusive in his old age, and the military council that kept Alynatalos on its feet did little for those born with magic. Those from Alynatalos also called on her for help. There was so much to do as Nature Walker – Gin remembered her mother being busy when she was a girl but had no idea that she had all of these responsibilities. Moments like this one, when she could sit quietly with a steaming mug of tea and watch the sunset, were precious indeed. A tingle moved up the back of her neck, vibrating through her core like a loud purr. Gin smiled. Sath. She could feel his amusement like a rumble in her chest, and it made her smile.
You’re doing well, Cat. You almost didn’t tip me off that you were there this time.
Thanks, I try. Are you all right?
Yes, of course. Why?
Just wondering. You’re so far away, I worry that I can’t protect you if something happens.
Nothing will happen, Sath—and I can protect myself, thank you very much. How is Khujann?
Just the same. Less playful mischief, more sneaking out like Kazhmere used to do. He misses you.
Is Khuj the only one?
You know that he is not. When are you coming home?
Sath. I am at home. I am needed here. You could come to visit me.
There was a long silence. Gin could still feel Sath through their bond, but he was sulking and not speaking to her. She sighed loudl
y as she rose to refill her mug, almost running into a young wood elf female that was standing behind her in the shadow of the door to her hut. “Oh, dear spirits, I am sorry, little one. I did not hear you come up behind me.”
“My apologies, Nature Walker.” The younger elf took Gin’s empty hand in hers and pressed her forehead to Gin’s knuckles. It was a customary greeting among the druids, and Gin nodded her head and smiled. “I was sent to check on you when you did not come to evening devotion.” Every night at sundown, since Gin’s return to Aynamaede, the druids gathered at the stone circle. They meditated together, reminding themselves and each other of their loyalty in service to the All-Mother.
“Yes, I needed some time in private meditation tonight, my little one.” Gin moved past the younger female and opened the door to her hut. “Is everything all right?”
“Oh, yes, Nature Walker. All is well. Good rest to you.”
“And to you.” Gin entered her hut, flinching as the door slammed behind her before she could catch it. She looked at her mug and decided against another cup of tea. After placing it near the fireplace, Gin made a circle with her hand that ended in a closed fist. The torches that burned in the corners of the room extinguished. She wrapped her arms around her chest and walked into her bed-chamber, before searching the bond for Sath one last time. Gin did not find him there, so she wished him good rest and sat down on the edge of her bed to unwind her intricately braided hair and get ready for bed.
Outside her hut, the young wood elf lingered in the shadows, watching the Nature Walker through one of the small, rounded windows in her hut. As Gin unbraided her long, auburn hair, the young elf touched her own hair, braided similarly. She felt a strange tingle and pulled her hand down out of her hair, frowning at what she saw. Her oaken-tinged skin darkened before her eyes. The braids in her blonde hair melted into silky white waves that fell just below her shoulders. The leather tunic that she wore lengthened until the cobalt fabric touched the wood of the platform.
“I will have you, Ginolwenye of the Trees, for what you did to my A'chrya,” she hissed in D’leesh. Ellie whispered words in her language and faded from view, but remained on the platform watching Gin through the window. As she leaned on the wall, darkness began to creep in around her field of vision. “Not now, please, not now!” Elspethe straightened up and moved away from the wall, preparing to cast a spell to transport her away from Aynamaede. One last look in the window before the spell took hold, and everything went dark.
Gin reached up to rub the back of her neck as a painful tingle spread down into her shoulders. It was a pain she hadn’t felt in months, not since – no, Taeben was dead. She searched the bond for Sath but again found nothing but silence, so she snuggled down into her bedding to go to sleep, willing the nightmares away so that she could rest. The pain abated as she dozed off, but the dreams appeared right on cue. They were mostly images, nothing really concrete—but the content was always the same. The Temple to the Mother with Taeben—Sath as the Bane of the Forest—those she lost: Lairky, Cursik, her parents—Kazhmere as she looked standing outside of the Fabled Ones’ great hall.
Startling from the nightmare, she again felt the tingle in her back and shoulders. She sought out Sath in the bond and found him, but he was asleep, and she didn’t want to intrude on his dreams or wake him. She pulled back and opened her eyes, her blurry vision scanning the room for something familiar. Gin smiled as she spoke the words for the first spell she ever learned, causing a sphere-shaped bunch of magical fireflies to form above the palm of her hand. Using the supernatural insects as a torch, she rose from the bed and padded across her bedchamber to the window overlooking the rest of Aynamaede. She dismissed the fireflies and gazed out over her city—her people. Lamps burned in windows, torches on each level blazed, creating a path from the top of Aynamaede—the residence of the Nature Walker—to the lifts that led to the forest floor below. Everything was peaceful here, but Gin knew better than to grow complacent.
Since becoming the Nature Walker, Gin read the journals of all Nature Walkers that came before her. The most interesting one—in her estimation, anyway—was that of her great-great-grandfather, Draoch of the Trees. He was the Nature Walker during the Forest War when the last of the dragons—save the mad Lord Taanyth and the imprisoned Lord Kalinth—left for the Dark Side of the World. The first of her line of Guardians, he seemed the most like her in terms of personality and values. She poured over his spellbook and the notes that he made in the margins, improving her own magic and teaching what she was learning to the young druids that flocked to her for magical study.
Gin, what’s wrong?
Sath. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.
Wake me?
Ah, you’re still asleep. I’m fine, please don’t worry.
This bond lets me know when you’re lying. Won’t tell me why, or what’s wrong, but I know when you aren’t telling me the truth.
Fine, Sath. You are the most stubborn creature I have ever met. Gin could feel his rumbly laughter, and it made her smile. I had a strange sensation tonight—I could feel Ben again, trying to break into my mind. But it isn’t possible. I know that it isn’t possible. The amusement faded from her bond with Sath, and she could swear that she could hear the low growl that always accompanied thoughts of Taeben. Calm down, I’m sure it was just a coincidence. There have been some young ones here that want to learn the bond, and even though I refuse, they could be experimenting. I will have to be more firm with them.
Gin—you will tell me if—I mean, if you know, then you will tell me -
Of course I would. Gin focused on how much she loved Sath and soon felt him relax. No more secrets. That’s why I taught you the bond. Now get some rest, and I will do the same.
I love you, till always.
Till always, Sath.
Gin moved away from the window as she felt him settle back into her mind. She was reminded of Ben’s description of her in his mind – she was a low, comforting hum, always there. That was Sath—always there, but more of a purr than a hum. And she was here in the tree city with her people, wishing that she was across the Forbidden Sea in the feline company of the Qatu. She created the bond with Sath so that he would not worry—he had not moved beyond all the hard times in their shared past. Each time she left for the Great Forest, Sath clung to her, as though he might never see her again. With the bond, he could find her instantly and know what she was doing, who she was with, and, most importantly, where she was.
Gin sighed as she moved back toward her bed in the dark. Regardless of her promise not to keep secrets from Sath, she had not wholly opened her mind to him. There were parts that she had not let him find—stories that he was not ready to hear, of that she was sure. But as she sent out one last questioning tendril toward the Rajah of the Qatu, she found that he too had parts of his mind that she could not reach. She had not taught him to do that. Who taught him how to do that? Draoch wrote that the Qatu could make the bond innately, but she had to teach Sath.
She chuckled sadly as she climbed back into her bed. “That must have been how Ben felt the first time he couldn’t just slide into my mind,” she said to the darkness in her room. Gin rubbed her arms to rid herself of an unexpected chill and snuggled down into the thick duvet on her tiny bed. This was nothing like the luxury of her chamber in the palace, and that was good—for a time. She closed her eyes and thought of Sath and Khujann, and how happy she would be to see them again. Soon. Soon her time here would be up, and she could make her way back to Qatu’anari and Sath. Not soon enough.
Several Years Later...
Four
Inside the Palace Grounds, Qatu’anari
“Come on, Ginny, Papa said to be back in time for dinner,” Khujann, Crown Prince of Qatu’anari said as he tugged on Gin’s arm. She turned to look at the Qatu male, no longer a fuzzy cub, standing there in the light from the torches along the path leading to the Qatu palace. He was growing into a fine Qatu, broad and robust, but h
e looked less and less like his father. Sath’s fur was light with dark stripes that seemed to smile along with his infectious grin, and his ears were tipped with black. Khujann, on the other hand, had grown into the spitting image of his Aunt Kazhmere—solid golden fur with just a bit of darkness smudged around his ears—and Gin found that difficult to reconcile at times. She knew that it gave great comfort to Sath because he missed his sister every day, but for her, Khujann was a constant reminder of the wedge she had a hand in driving in between herself and Sath. She was not sure he would ever be able to forgive her for bringing Tairneanach into Qatu’anari so that she could carry out Taeben’s wishes and cause Kazhmere’s death, regardless of his constant reassurance to the contrary. His teal gaze, so like his father’s, sought out hers and brought her back from her musing. “Are you coming or not?”
Gin smiled. “If I close my eyes, you sound just like your father,” she said. Khujann answered with a rumbly growl that made Gin giggle a bit. “Oh, stop it, there was a time when growing up to be just like your Papa was the only thing you wanted in life, Khuj.” She playfully swatted at him, and he beamed a toothy grin at her that stopped her heart for a moment. He was the handsome Crown Prince and her precious little cub all at the same time, and it seared her to the core. “There’s my boy,” she said, smiling sadly. They headed off toward the city gate, Khujann’s security detail hot on their heels. Sath had not forgotten the threats against his son’s life when Khujann was a cub, and he took extra precautions to make sure the Prince was safe.
Darkness: A Guardians of Orana Novel Page 3