Darkness: A Guardians of Orana Novel

by Nancy E. Dunne

  “But Mother, what does this have to do with Taeben—oh.” Gin blanched as the realization hit her. “So, anyone with whom he made the bond is in danger?” She unconsciously rubbed the back of her neck as she asked. Sephine held her arms out to Gin, but Sath quickly wrapped an arm around her, and she snuggled into his embrace. The Qatu raised his eyebrows in a sarcastic victory at Sephine.

  “I do not think that you—or my child, Tairneanach—are in danger. I believe that he has someone already working with him, someone that you have met. She is Ikedrian, and was an apprentice to the wizard while he was still alive.” Gin looked back at Sephine. “You have met her already. She was sent by the Mother Dragon to get the orb.”

  “The dark elf female!” Sath shot a pointed look at Gin. “The one you let escape, twice.”

  “Enough, Rajah.” Sephine was clearly running low on patience. “You must understand, Nature Walker, that there is a reason that she is involved. Her name is Elspethe Turlach. Do you recognize that surname?” Gin nodded, but her face clouded when she couldn’t make an exact connection. “I expect that the Rajah would, as he met her for potions before you started this awful journey.” Sath loosened his hold on Gin and ran a hand over his face. “But Gin, you should recognize her surname at least. There is more to the story than you know. The blood of your family is bonded to the blood of her family.”

  “How is that possible, Mother?” Gin asked, and then the answer hit her like the business end of an opponent’s staff. “Maelfie?”

  “Aye, child, but that is not all. Her family is bound to yours by more than your brother’s love for Elspeth’s sister,” Sephine replied. “It is far more complicated than that. Your sister was also bonded by love to a Turlach. Kamendar, Maelfie’s elder brother, was soulbound to Lairceach.”

  “Apologies, Mother, but that cannot be true. I would have known if Lairky…” Gin stopped, her heart spiking up into her throat at the memory of her sister.

  “Sephine, with respect, how has this family of Ikedrians come to be bound to Gin’s family?” Sath asked as Gin gratefully took the opportunity to get herself together.

  “Well, as you know, nothing in this world happens randomly.” Sath scoffed loudly but fell silent when the goddess shifted her gaze to him. “The two families—The House of Turlach and the Line of the Nature Walkers—came to be bound together in destiny during the Forest Wars, when Draoch of the Trees forged a friendship with an Ikedrian, D’Ayna Turlach. But after Ayna was lost in the war and Draoch gave up his mantle to his daughter, that bond weakened. After the war, when House Turlach dedicated themselves more to the work of their Father Ikara, they became one of the most powerful noble houses of Ikedria. So, when your Cursik began to fall in love with Maelfie Turlach—the twin sister of Elspethe—the events that followed were set in motion as the bond rekindled. Kamendar sought out Lairceach in an attempt to find out more about his sister’s death. He thought that it was at Cursik’s hand and was plotting revenge, but my precious child Lairceach turned his heart, and he fell in love with her. He could not have known that Elspethe had already sought out and killed Cursik. At Lairceach’s unfortunate death, Kamendar was distraught and sought revenge again, but could do naught else but join his Lairky in death.”

  Gin stared at the goddess, forgetting her customary reverence. Her soul could no longer bear the weight of the tale Sephine told. “And…Elspethe?” she whispered.

  “That, my dearest one, is the point at which I entered the tale,” Sephine said darkly. “The wizard had come to my attention already during his time serving first Salynth and then Lord Taanyth. Isona, the goddess of love and mercy, came to Kildir and me, worried about this Taeben’s influence on the world, and I began watching him. Isona feared he was connected to Ikara, but she could do nothing because he was sworn to follow her brother, Indarr, as many males born in Alynatalos are.” She drew closer to Gin, running her ethereal hand down the side of Gin’s face and lifting her chin until Gin met the goddess’s gaze. “Oh, my precious child, my Nature Walker—the things that wizard did to you.”

  “WAIT.” Sath could stand by silently no longer. “You saw her when the wizard had her? You watched Gin’s suffering? Watched? You let him put his filthy hands on her, your Nature Walker—you let him crawl inside her mind like a parasite, you let him leave scars on her body and her mind, and you did nothing? I hear her call out to you in pain and fear even now in her sleep, did you ignore her cries then as you do now? What kind of monster are you? All-Mother indeed!”

  “Sath, no…” Gin hissed at him. “Don’t.”

  “Stand down, Rajah,” Sephine said, her voice low and even. “There is only so much we gods may do to involve ourselves in the lives of mortals such as you. It does not mean we think of you as—what did you say before? Puppets? Dolls? We do not exist as you do, and we cannot influence your world as much as you think we can, at least not any longer. After the Forest War, we retreated to the Void for fear that Ikara would try to escape. I did as much as I could for my child, Ginolwenye, in her times of great need.” She considered Gin again and then turned her attention back to Sath. “But surely you know by now how strong she is? Your mate, Rajah, is amazing. She not only emerged from her time of trial at the hands of the wizard alive but with her compassion and mercy intact. You cannot say the same of yourself. I have watched while you succumbed to your bloodlust and need for vengeance over and over again.” Sath hung his head. “I have seen you hurt my Nature Walker time and again, and yet, she forgives you and loves you still. I do not criticize you by telling you this, Rajah. I merely wish to remind you of the incredible female at your side.”

  “There is no need to remind me of that,” Sath muttered.

  “As I said, that was when I entered the story,” Sephine continued. “I needed the wizard dead, but as I said, unless he attacked me, I could not intervene directly. Your love for my child Ginolwenye was just what I needed. When you killed the wizard, I waited for the shift that Isona and I and the other gods felt to right itself. It did not, and in fact, it got worse.

  “Taeben left instructions for this Ikedrian, whom he had been mentoring, to take on his work in the event of his death. She did as he asked, and had almost succeeded in creating the mass mind control spell that Taeben and Taanyth were working on perfecting. So I made sure that she knew your part in Taeben’s death and put a burning need for revenge for her family in your heart. The poor thing had fallen in love with Taeben, and though I hated to do it, I exploited that love to spur her to action. It was my hope that she would focus more on you than him and would eventually see his true nature. She knows of Lairky and Cursik, Ginolwenye. I had to intervene before the beautiful intertwining of your families was ruined by the wizard.” Sephine turned back to Gin and again took Gin’s face in her hand. “What I did not know was he was still communicating with her through the bond—I was not aware of anyone with that ability since the days of my Draoch. He plans to use her body as his conduit. Taeben wants to return to Orana—and, I fear, to you, my Nature Walker. He led her to create the magic that sent you here, and in doing so, she thought that she was honoring him and his wishes. In the meantime, he was drawing her in, commanding more and more of her mind. You of all people should know how he operates.” Gin nodded sadly.

  “But Mother, we saw Taanyth in the Void! Why didn’t we see Taeben if he is stuck there?”

  “He has concealed himself, my child. He knows how to use the magic of the Mother Dragon, creating pockets of time where he can hide. Taanyth does not—he merely sits in stasis, waiting to either move on or be resurrected.” Sephine rose from her cushion and crossed the room to look out the window. “Taeben learned from Taanyth as the Father Dragon slowly went mad—I imagine that is how he knew how to create his hidey holes—and tipped her off that you and the Rajah had the orb; he also handed over to her his apprentice, Elspethe. Rajah, I am grateful to you for protecting the Nature Walker from that dragonkind that meant her harm in the inn. That is part of why I ga
ve you that gift.”

  Sath smiled, but the smile did not reach his teal eyes. They burned with a mixture of sadness and anger as he looked into the face of the goddess. “Aye, we both are grateful to you for that chance. And as for protecting Gin, I didn’t need a nudge from you to do that. I will always do that—though I think you and I both know that she no longer needs me in that role.” He looked around at Gin, who was staring off into space, as though hearing something they could not hear. “Gin?”

  She rubbed the back of her neck but did not answer him. Sath waved the goddess back to where they were by the fire. “What is wrong, Rajah?”

  “Look at her. She is listening to—something—but I’ve seen her rub her neck like that. One of the bonds she used to have was hurting her physically.” Gin’s eyes grew wide, and a tear ran down her cheek as she froze in place, her fingers still wrapped around the back of her neck.

  “Which bond? With whom?” Sephine demanded though the look on her face said that she already knew.

  “Taeben.”

  Ginny. My Ginny! It’s been so long.

  This is not possible.

  Well, I admit that I needed a little help, but you should know by now that anything is possible where I am concerned and especially when it comes to you. Have you missed me, my love?

  I did not allow you in, how are you in my mind?

  It does not matter how. All that matters is that I am here, in your mind, where I belong.

  You have no place here anymore.

  Gin concentrated all of her energy into creating a barrier against him, and while she felt him diminish, he was still there. Sath was calling her. Sephine was looking into her eyes. Why couldn’t she answer them? Perhaps she shouldn’t tell them what was going on? Another hum started in the back of her mind, growing into a rumbling growl.

  Sath?

  Gin, what’s going on? Are you all right? I saw you rub your neck.

  It’s him, Sath. It’s Ben. I blocked him out. But he will be back.

  My Nature Walker, the wizard needs the orb. You must not let him know what you know.

  I know, Mother. But I fear he already knows. He is still here, weakened, but still here. Tell me what we need to do, and I will do it. I will not allow him back into the world if I can do anything to stop it.

  Thirty-Two

  Void of all Reason

  There wasn’t much to do in the Void on any given day. There wasn’t even a definitive way to know if it was day or night. Time flowed on, ever forward, and nothing changed. It was permanently dark, and the stars weren’t even familiar. Occasionally a magic user would come into the Void and become stuck for a short time before figuring out how to backtrack their way out. Other times, adventurers trying to find the dark side of the world would find their way out of the Mother Dragon’s traps and into the Void, but they almost always went back into the traps—never to be heard of again.

  The day that Taeben first heard Elspethe calling out to him, weeping for him, it was like a lifeline for him. Whereas before he had been floating, unable to take form, her energy was like a lighthouse—he was able to find her and move toward her. He discovered their bond again, and in that, he grew stronger. Every time he connected with her, he took a little of her strength into himself, just as he had done when he was alive and had his Ginny nearby to help supplement his magical energy. Ginny—every thought of her chiseled away at the strength he was amassing. Every image of her face blocked his connection with Elspethe for a long enough moment for him to lose focus. Or at least it had until he was able to take control of the Ikedrian’s body.

  Taeben just was, in the Void. He had no corporeal form and he felt nothing—at least nothing physical. It was as though his mind was free, but the rest of him was just gone. His magic was still there, but he couldn’t access it—not without Elspethe. Never patient in life, he had grown so in death because there simply was nothing else to do—until now. He had given Elspethe her consciousness back in addition to her body. She was doing his work and keeping herself bound to him at the same time. But that left his mind free to experiment, and in that process, he had stumbled into Gin’s mind.

  The fact that their bond was intact was a surprise. He thought that maybe she hadn’t thought about having to sever it after her Qatu beast had killed him. Nothing else made sense. But the bond was still there, and he had heard her voice in his mind for the first time in—well, he had no real idea of how long it had been, actually. To keep himself from going mad due to the nothingness of his existence, he had focused on leading his apprentice along a path that would end with him using her corporeal form as his portal back to the land of the living. He had left off that last part when explaining the plan to her, of course, because her own will to live—nearly as strong as his own, he had to give her credit for that—would never have allowed her to go along with him this far. He remembered the last time he was with Elspethe, shortly before he died when he bound his soul to her soul with blood—that he asked her if he had ever done anything untoward in her mind, and she said she would not have allowed it. He scoffed. Would not have allowed it? She would not have been able to stop him when he was still in his body.

  But now—now it was a different story. Taeben was basically a shell of his former self and had no power. All that he was came to him through Elspethe, through their blood bond. She had been a good and faithful servant—but that’s all she was. A servant to the greater good—his greater good. Taeben pictured Gin in his mind, trying to locate her through their bond again. He chuckled—or did whatever one discorporate could do that resembled laughter. She had blocked him from seeing her and communicating with her, but the bond was still intact. His attention was drawn, suddenly, to Elspethe. She was with the Mother Dragon—that was part of the plan—but she needed him. He could feel her drawing him toward her—again, like a lighthouse in his darkness—because she needed help. Soon she would be the one in the background permanently. He wondered if she could see or hear any more than he could when he was in full control of her body, but decided that he could not dwell on that. Pity was weakness, and weakness was death.

  Just as he took the first step—figuratively, of course—toward Ellie, he took one last look at Gin and found that she was asleep. Taeben looked through the memories that she was not guarding—old memories, from before he reconnected with her—and picked one to open like a dream for her. Would she be able to sleep through that? Again, Taeben laughed—or whatever resembled laughter when one had no corporeal form and no discernable vocal chords—as he pushed the memory into the forefront of her mind. There would not be much sleep for his Ginny tonight, nor any nights after he returned to Orana.

  Thirty-Three

  La’al Drygyr, interrupted.

  After a few hours of plotting, Sephine left Gin and Sath to check in with Isona and the other gods in the Void. Sath was still sitting with a makeshift map of the continent on the floor in front of him. Gin was meditating, re-creating the barriers in her mind against Taeben’s intrusions—as well as making sure that Omerith and the others with an innate bond couldn’t just turn up in her mind at will. She could feel Sath looking at her and turned around to catch his gaze. “You know I hate it that.”

  “I do, yes, but I just can’t help thinking that we are missing something.” He ran one of his large hands over the top of his head. “Still weird to have all this fur on my face again.” He frowned, but Gin quickly closed the space between them, taking his other hand in hers.

  “I love it. I missed it, to be honest. Your face wasn’t. . .you without it.”

  Sath scowled at her, but his scowl softened to a grin. “You got those barriers up?” He smoothed a bit of hair back from her forehead, taking great care not to scratch her skin. She nodded and yawned. “Go on and get some sleep if you want. I can’t imagine how taxing all of this has been on you.” She padded softly back over to the bed and climbed under the duvet. She was asleep in no time. “Now then.” Sath rearranged himself on the cushion and closed
his eyes. Gin had taught him how to look for people in the bond, and he decided that he might as well give it a try while she was sleeping.

  First, he concentrated on a blank wall in his mind. No color, no sounds, nothing—and as soon as he had that image firmly in his mind, he began thinking about the golden dragon that he had seen in their chambers two days prior. Daelyth. He spoke the name in his mind over and over. There was nothing. Back to the blank wall again. Omerith. This time the connection was made quickly, but he was not sure that Omerith knew that he was watching. The red dragon was asleep in his own bedchamber—basically a large room with high ceilings and a cushion next to a roaring fireplace. Sath moved his consciousness closer to the enormous reptile and studied him for a moment, glad that Omerith did not have Gin’s tracking ability. She would have awakened the minute he looked at her.

  Try as he might, Sath could not make headway into the mind of the red dragon. Powerful magic there. Gin might have been able to connect with him that way, but Sath was just not practiced enough in the bond. He sighed and turned his attention elsewhere. Blank, white wall. Kaerinth. The scene in his mind shifted so quickly that he almost felt queasy. The room was similar but more substantial and lush. The Mother Dragon had spared no expense in creating her living space in M’aanyr. Marble walls and floors reminded Sath—painfully so—of the palace on Qatu’anari.